Within the Cinderblocks
by gleebles
Summary: [COMPLETE] Three gunmen arrive at William McKinley High with fire in their eyes and a score to settle. Students, including Glee club members, are held hostage with strict orders and brutal punishments. They can only pray they make it out safe, alive, and sane. Canon pairings. Set within the third season.
1. Prologue: Let's Start A Riot

**gleebles A/N; **Welcome welcome to my first multi-chapter novel! I'm quite proud of this and I hope you all enjoy the journey as much as I have! Yes, there are some OC's, so please keep an open mind and take a chance on it!

Let's begin!

Prologue  
"Let's Start A Riot"

_If you feel so angry,  
__So ripped off, so stepped on,  
__You're not the only one  
__Refusing to back down,  
__You're not the only one,  
__So get up,  
__Let's start a riot._

* * *

**Charlie's House  
****6:50 AM**

A car horn honked outside the ivory house with dark green shutters. From the road, one could see the curtains of the upstairs bedroom window rustle and pull back. A pallid face neared the windowpanes and stared down at the road.

"Let's go!" sang Ray from the vibrating vehicle.

Charlie swallowed nervously, realigned the drapes with trembling hands, and backed away from the window unsteadily.

His descent on the staircase seemed to go on for ages. However, by the time he got to the bottom, he felt as though the front door had appeared far too quickly.

His book bag lay on the floor next to the door; he picked it up, thinking it had never been as heavy as it was now. He glanced up at the door, thinking that twisting the doorknob would probably be the hardest thing he would ever have to do.

Outside, he neared the two-door automobile and immediately the passenger side door opened.

Out stepped Ron who pulled the seat forward and stood back, allowing Charlie to climb into the backseat.

"Sleep okay?" Ray asked as Charlie situated himself in the back.

He made a noise, but couldn't find his voice.

Ron pushed the seat back, sat back down, and they were off.

* * *

**Highway (Ten minutes from McKinley High)  
****6:53 AM**

Ray glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed Charlie's darting eyes.

"Hey," he called to him. "We've planned everything perfectly. Stop worrying."

"I know," Charlie exhaled, running his sweaty hands up and down his jeans.

"Remember why we're doing this," Ray continued. "We're doing this for you."

Charlie nodded quickly.

"We're in this together."

Charlie's fingers passed over the cold metal in his backpack. He tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry.

* * *

**McKinley High School  
****7:05 AM**

"Do we need to go over the plan again?"

Ron and Charlie shook their heads.

Ray smiled.

"I'll see you at lunch then."

* * *

**First period  
****7:36 AM**

Charlie stared at the clock.

"I've got a good feeling about Regionals."

"Me too. And Glee club will be much more bearable today with Rachel out sick."

"Truth," Artie agreed.

Charlie stared at the clock.

"Mercedes that's awful," Tina said, sounding slightly upset.

"What? Oh come on, are you telling me that if she wasn't out sick, she would've come in today with a list of songs to sing at Regionals that _didn't_ revolve around her singing the solos?"

Charlie stared at the clock.

"No, but—"

"Alright class, listen up. Today we'll be discussing algorithms."

Charlie closed his eyes and exhaled.

* * *

**Lunchroom  
****1:08 PM**

Ron checked his watch.

He took a bite of whatever they were serving in the cafeteria. He didn't taste it.

"_Cause you're hot then you're cold! You're yes then you're no! You're in then you're out! You're up then you're down!"_

"Blaine, _please _stop with the Katy Perry songs."

"I haven't done that one yet!"

"Come on, boys. Let's be civil…"

Ron wiped his mouth and scanned the cafeteria.

"Ughh…seriously, my ears are bleeding."

"Hey, Puck, come on…"

"I don't say anything when you belt out one rockabilly song after another."

"Blaine—"

"Yeah, cause that happens all of once a year."

"Try twice a week!"

"Come on guys, can we please focus on what songs we're going to be singing at Regionals?"

"You _are_ hearing this, aren't you Kurt?"

"Yes, Blaine…"

Ron stood up and picked up his tray.

"Let me guess, you want the solo for E.T., right Anderson?"

"No Puckerman, I was thinking a Van Halen song would be better. What do you think?"

"Seriously, guys?"

Ron glanced at his watch one last time before exiting the lunchroom.

* * *

**Fourth period  
****2:50 PM**

Ray smiled at the clock and turned to Charlie.

Charlie's eyes ghosted over the time as well and returned his gaze to Ray. He nodded slightly.

Ron gave Ray a warning look, which Ray brushed off.

"Cool it, Ray," Ron cautioned, pulling Ray's book bag slightly. "Stick with the plan."

"I _know_," Ray hissed and yanked his bag away.

The bell rang and Ray leapt to his feet. The rest of the class gathered their things.

"Let's go," he spoke, his voice shaking in excitement.

"Not yet," Ron said as he and Charlie stood as well. "We have to wait until they get to the bus."

Ray reached into his bag and grasped the handle.

"Then let's wait in the parking lot."

"The plan was that we were going to wait inside— Ray, wait!"

Ray made his way out the door followed quickly by Ron and Charlie.

"Calm down, Ray," Ron murmured in a hushed voice as the students of McKinley moved through the hall.

Charlie was visibly shaking head to toe as he followed the two boys down the hall, avoiding all gazes.

"I'm calm."

"Let go of the gun then."

One of Ray's hands held his bag, the other grasping the handle of the gun inside it tightly, unable to loosen.

Suddenly Ron stepped in front of Ray, causing Charlie to halt just behind him.

"Stop," he spoke directly into his face.

"I'm _fine_," Ray glared at him.

"—Yeah, and she's going to kill us if we're late—"

Charlie's eyes fell on the boy in the wheelchair wearing a red and white McKinley High football jersey. The tall Asian boy pushing him wore an identical jersey.

"Well, if Puck and Finn are in there, then we'll get them. If not, I say more play time for us!"

They laughed.

Ray, too, noticed the passing football players and his pupil's dilated. He pulled the gun out quickly and pointed it at the boy in the wheelchair.

"Ray,_ no_!"

Ron's protest caused the boys to glance up in time to see the gun. And they weren't the only ones to see it. Someone screamed.

Mike yanked the wheelchair back and threw himself in front of Artie just as Ray pulled the trigger.

An earsplitting crack sounded and suddenly, everyone was screaming and running. Charlie felt faint.

"What are you doing?" he exhaled weakly.

Mike fell heavily to the ground and gripped his leg with white knuckles. A loud, raw scream ripped through his vocal cords.

"M-Mike, are you—?" Artie began, his voice shaking with concern, but he was cut off by a clicking sound. He looked up to see the gun pointed directly at his forehead.

"_Get in there_!" Ray shrieked, gesturing to the classroom beside them. "Both of you!"

All around them, students screamed, tripping over themselves as they sprinted down the hall. Many students threw themselves into classrooms and yanked the door shut behind them.

There came a loud ringing as someone down the hall pulled the fire alarm.

Artie stared at the gun and his breath began to hitch.

"_Go!" _Ray screamed, pushing the weapon closer to Artie's face.

"Nice going, Ray," Ron spoke sarcastically. "This is exactly what we said we _weren't _going to do!"

"I don't care," Ray breathed quickly as Mike crawled through the doorway. Exclamations erupted in the room and Artie wheeled himself after Mike, eyes still gaping at the gun. "We can still follow the plan."

"It's not going to be as easy now," Ron commented, but Ray ignored him.

"Get in there," he said to Charlie who stared at him in horror. He edged past Ray and entered the room.

By now the hallway, not including papers, book bags, binders, purses, and even a shoe, was empty. The fire alarm still shrilled. Muffled cries could be heard through closed doors. The people in the room where Artie and Mike entered still shouted with panic.

"You still got my back?" Ray asked hurriedly and Ron's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Always," he replied.

"Remember the plan," Ray spoke evenly. "Get as many students in the room and wait for my phone call."

Ron nodded and started sprinting down the hall.

"Good luck," he called over his shoulder and Ray smiled.

He turned around and stepped through the door.

The room went silent. Charlie, gun in hand, looked his way.

Ray smiled again and closed the choir room door.

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **And so it begins...


	2. Chapter One: Stop and Stare

**gleebles A/N; **Wow! I can't believe how much attention this story has attracted already! Many, many new story followers and I'm very grateful because normally stories starting with OC's don't fair well. But I'm glad you have decided to give it a try. :)

I will update every Sunday, but because the first chapter was just a prologue, I decided to post chapter one a bit early.

So, here we are and let the fun begin.

Chapter One  
"Stop and Stare"

_This town is colder now,  
__I think it's sick of us,  
__It's time to make our move,  
__I'm shaking off the rust._

* * *

**Room 153  
****2:53 PM**

When the last bell of the day chimed throughout the halls, Coach Beiste quickly left the gym, flipping through papers on her clipboard. The away game that started at 7 o'clock was two and a half hours away from McKinley, at Lancaster High School. She wanted to hit the pavement as soon as classes let out for the day so she had enough time to warm up the team and run over a few plays with them.

As she hurried down the hall, she noticed the red and white jerseys of her boys walking in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

"Hey, where are you guys going?" she asked, stopping in her tracks. "We gotta get moving!"

"Sorry, Coach," Artie apologized and glanced up at Mike. "We're just letting Mr. Schue know that we're not going to Glee practice today."

"I'm sure he knows already," she dismissed, waving for them to follow her.

"Sorry, club rules," Mike resisted, still pushing Artie down the hall. "We have to let him know if we're not going to be there. It'll take one second!"

"Alright," Beiste exhaled. "Hurry up. And tell him for Puck and Finn**,** too; I don't want to be late today!"

"Yes, Coach," the boys responded in unison.

Beiste shook her head and continued down the hall.

This was an important game for the Titans. Her players' nonchalant attitude was beginning to peak again and this irritated Beiste more than anything. Did they not realize that nearly each and every one of them could receive a football scholarship…?

A single, piercing, blood-curdling scream forced Beiste away from her thoughts, followed quickly by a gunshot. She quickly whipped around and caught sight of the gun before the hallway erupted in chaos.

Panic filled every heart in the hall as students ripped and clawed at each other to get away from the dangerous student. Beiste's heart pounded in her chest and her eyes fell on the fire alarm mounted to the wall. She lunged forward, pulled it, and the shrill bell sounded, drowning out the student's screams.

Beiste then grabbed for the next object within her reach: a doorknob. She ripped open the classroom door and shoved a few passing students in.

"_Get in!_" she bellowed and was met with terrified eyes. The students that heard her forced their way into the classroom.

She watched carefully down the hall as students continued to rush past her into the room. There was a trio at the end of the hall talking, as if a school shooting was a completely ordinary event. Beiste's eyes traveled down to their hands and realized, with horror, that they each carried a gun.

With no more students present in the corridor, Beiste stepped into the classroom and closed the door shut, locking it. She looked through the window nestled in the door and watched with wide eyes as a gunman passed her.

She leaned forward further and peeked down the hall. One of the boys was now down the hall, another had disappeared completely, and the third had just entered the choir room where the Glee students resided.

* * *

**Outside McKinley High  
****3:13 PM**

Something told Will that this wasn't a typical fire drill.

Not even fifteen minutes after the bell, twenty or so police vehicles surrounded the school. Will and Emma watched as students were questioned by the police, calmed down by EMT's, or carted off by school buses. A SWAT team arrived moments later. The air was full of sobbing teenagers, static radio noise, frantic orders, and calming, but doubtful reassurances.

Will saw Principal Figgins watching the commotion with a heartsick expression on his face. He was looking at _his _school, at _his_ campus, at _his _students. Schue saw him close his eyes and rub his temples achingly.

Will and Emma also glanced over with pain in their chests as parents of students were arriving to McKinley with looks of panic, fear, and expectance. They all cried for information and the police tried their best to calm them down, but they had no answers for the parents.

"_What_ is going on?" Emma exhaled quietly.

Will's arm, which wrapped around her shoulders, tightened. He meant to say something comforting, but suddenly recognized a pair of passing students and his comment died in his throat.

"Brittany! Sugar!" he called, taking his arm from Emma.

The two girls looked up at Mr. Schue and hurried over.

"Do you know what's going on?" asked Will.

Sugar nodded.

"Brittany and I were on our way to Glee club when we heard someone scream and then a gunshot. I don't know who it was or who they shot."

Will's stomach dropped instantly. _A gun?_

"I think they shot Mike."

"_What_?" came Emma's, Will's, and Sugar's exclamations.

Brittany looked down at the ground.

"Why didn't you tell the police that?" Sugar asked. They had both just been questioned moments ago.

"Because I'm not one hundred percent sure," she said with a one-shouldered shrug. "But they were near the choir room and I saw Mike and Artie there."

Will wrapped his arm around Emma once again and clenched his jaw tightly.

"But like I said," Brittany said quietly, trying to reassure, but failing desperately, "I'm not one hundred percent confident."

Will glanced back at the school and felt nauseous.

_Please_, he prayed silently, _let them be okay._

* * *

**Choir room  
****2:55 PM**

The noise emitted by the students of the choir room was deafening. They were first met with the sight of Mike Chang pulling himself, bleeding, into the room. Tina had stood up immediately and rushed to help him. Artie, who was pale and shaking, wheeled in next, followed by a small student with untidy, brown hair and freckles, and lastly a tall boy with cold, gray eyes. Screams, gasps, yells, and cries filled the room as they took notice of the guns, but then Ray extended his arm in the air and applied pressure to the trigger. There was a bang, a group gasp, and one of the lights in the ceiling sparked, then extinguished.

Only then was there silence.

Ray took a step forward, followed quickly by Charlie.

"What happened to the plan?" Charlie whispered shakily. His entire frame shuddered with uncontrollable tremors.

Ray ignored him.

"Everyone take a seat," he ordered evenly and was met by wide, confused eyes.

"What are you _doing_, man?" Finn asked in a shocked voice.

Ray raised his gun once again, but this time aimed at Finn. Finn blanched, stepping backward and raising his hands up.

Ray smiled.

"Take a seat."

A beat passed. Then, Mercedes lowered herself into a chair, followed by Blaine, Finn, Tina (who sat on the floor next to Mike), and lastly Puck. Puck glowered at the gunmen defiantly, but because of the weapon trained on his best friend, he slowly sat.

Although he complied with Ray's order, he couldn't help but ask the question on everyone's minds.

"What are you trying to do here?"

A manic glint appeared in Ray's eyes. He stepped aside so everyone could get a good look at Charlie.

"Does anyone recognize him?"

They all stared dumbly at Ray.

"Hm?" Ray placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side, looking quite deranged. "Nobody? How about you Puckerman?"

Puck continued watching Ray. Then his eyes shifted to Charlie who kept his eyes trained on the floor.

Finn also glanced at Charlie, the boy with bright blue eyes, and his stomach dipped, recognizing him immediately.

Oh, he knew him all right.

"Never seen him in my life," Puck voiced bravely. He didn't like someone coming into his choir room with a gun, threatening his friends and he had no problem verbalizing his dissatisfaction. Ray's jaw clenched tightly.

"Is…that…_so_?" he exhaled noisily. "How _very_ unfortunate for you all."

"What, is he your boyfriend or something?" Puck asked again in the same sarcastic drawl.

Charlie winced as Ray took a step forward, his gun pointed at Puck.

"_Puck_," Tina warned.

"Knock it off, man," Blaine stepped in as well.

"_What did you say_?" Ray shouted and Charlie flinched.

"Puck, no!" Mike gasped from the ground as Puck opened his mouth to retort.

Soon, everyone was shouting again. The room had erupted back into chaos and this only made Ray angrier.

"_Shut up_!" he cried, his weapon shifting from student to student. "_Shut_," he shot at the ceiling again, "_up!_"

The gunshot made everyone quiet again. Except for the mumbled sounds of chanting in the back next to Blaine.

"_What _are you doing?" Ray called, gun on Mercedes now. Everyone turned to look at her.

She kept her eyes closed when she answered.

"Praying," she replied quietly.

Everyone turned back to Ray and he couldn't help but look dumbstruck at her answer. His eye twitched and then, he lowered his aim and pulled out his cell phone.

* * *

**Room 107  
****3:06 PM**

Ron answered on the first ring.

"What's your status?" came Ray's mumbled question.

"Calm. Things going alright on your end?"

There was a brief pause before Ray laughed.

"Couldn't be better. How many do you have?"

Ron glanced up and his eyes scanned the room. He trailed over the students: there was a Hispanic cheerleader, who was glaring at him fiercely; a blonde football player, whose lips seemed too big for his face; a brunette boy with stylized hair, wearing white, skintight jeans and a detailed dark blue sweater; another boy with brown hair, who Ron recognized as the Irish foreign exchange student; a former cheerleader, who was far too popular for Ron not to know her name was Quinn Fabray; and lastly a boy whom Ron had never seen before, with mousy, light brown hair, fair skin, and glasses.

"Six," Ron replied into the phone.

"Anyone we care about?"

Ron's eyes fell onto the football player. Sam shifted uncomfortably under the heated gaze and looked away.

"Yeah," Ron said, eyes still burning holes into Sam's turned figure, "there's one."

"Alright," Ray continued and Ron could tell by his tone that he was pleased with their current situation. "Just keep your end calm and don't let anything get out of control. If it does, don't shoot the football player. Not yet."

"Okay," Ron nodded.

"I'll call again soon with updates," Ray promised and then hung up.

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **Thanks for reading! Expect **Chapter Two: Ain't No Rest For The Wicked **next Sunday!

Please favorite and review! :)


	3. Chapter Two: Aint No Rest For The Wicked

**gleebles A/N; **I am truly thrilled with the amount of followers this story has received! Thank you for all the support!

Aaaaand here we go again!

Chapter Two  
"Ain't No Rest For The Wicked"

_I can't slow down,  
__I can't hold back,  
__Though you know I wish I could.  
__No there ain't no rest for the wicked,  
__Until we close our eyes for good._

* * *

**Room 107  
****3:24 PM**

Quinn had been crying in the back right corner of the classroom for ten minutes now. Kurt and Rory, who sat next to each other in the front row, exchanged uneasy glances every time she would gasp for air or let out another aching sob.

Ron ignored them all. He sat at the teacher's desk, feet propped on top, picking at his fingernails, his gun lying on the desk forgotten. Quinn's cries had no effect on him whatsoever.

Sam, unable to take it anymore, slowly began to stand.

Ron's eyes landed on him immediately and he picked up his gun.

"Can I move?" Sam asked, holding up his hands in surrender. Sam was seated closest Quinn, seated only three desks in front of her, and it would take just a few steps to reach her.

"I'd stay away from your friends if I were you," Ron threatened with a dark glare.

Sam took a step back, toward Quinn, keeping his hands raised the entire time.

"She's scared. I just want to hold her hand," he explained calmly.

Ron stood up, his weapon pointed at Sam, steady and itching for the trigger.

"You _do _understand," he yelled, stepping around the desk, "that this whole thing is about you, right?"

They all just stared at Ron. This was the first time he'd given them any indication of what this whole school shooting was about…and _Sam _was to blame?

Sam had no response to Ron's question.

"I'm…just going to walk over there, okay?" he spoke slowly.

"You're not doing _anything _until I tell you so, _got it_?!" Ron screamed and he saw Sam's knees buckled slightly. Being told what to do even when he had a gun in his hand did _not _thrill Ron. Especially when he was being told what to do by someone like _Sam_. "Now sit down."

"Until you say so…" Santana spoke, glaring at Ron, "or until your _boss _orders you to."

Everyone turned to her.

"Excuse _me_?" Ron wondered, taking a step away from the door and crossing the room to face Santana. Kurt and Rory both leaned back in their seats, away from Ron as he passed.

"Oh _please_," she scoffed quite boldly for someone in a hostage situation, "we all heard your conversation on the phone. You won't hurt any of us. _And _you aren't in charge here. You're just a coward!"

Ron's face turned stony and he took a step back. Santana smiled smugly at him, momentarily pleased that she had knocked him off his game.

That was, until he reached his arm across his shoulder suddenly, and then swung, _hard, _at Kurt's unprepared face.

Kurt let out a surprised gasp and his entire body turned from the force of the blow. He stayed hunched over for a moment before uncurling, and they could see the nasty swelling on his cheek already begin to purple.

Santana, her heart thundering in her chest, challenged Ron again.

"Too afraid to hit a girl?" she asked, faking confidence. She suddenly hoped Ron _would_ hit her to make up what she just did to Kurt.

Instead, Ron cracked the gun again against Kurt's head, catching his temple this time.

Everyone stared at Ron in horror. By now, Quinn had begun to hyperventilate and Sam, who used Santana's interruption to reach Quinn, tried to ignore the scene in the front of the classroom and focus on calming her down.

The boy with mousy hair and glasses ignored the situation as well, keeping his eyes trained on his desk.

"Now," Ron exhaled a little breathlessly, cocking the gun and holding it to Kurt's bleeding temple, "do you have anything else you'd like to say?"

Santana just stared at him_. No one_ intimidated her, but she felt herself shrink under Ron's cold glare and her comebacks die in her throat.

Ron lowered his arm and turned his back on the students. Kurt raised his head and felt the side of his face with his trembling hands. Warm, sticky, red blood flowed from the wound on his temple and it spilled down the right side of his face. His cheek was still swelling from the first blow and turning a nasty bluish purple. However, most alarmingly, his vision went fuzzy as if his brain had come loose from the blows. It felt like he had become stuck in some sort of hazy fog.

Rory whispered him a question, but he didn't quite comprehend his words. He made a few noises to try to respond, but the question swam in his head as he tried to make sense of it.

Everyone looked to Kurt, worrying about him. Everyone but Santana.

She still stared, petrified, at Ron. He reclaimed his seat at the teacher's desk and went back to picking at his fingernails.

* * *

**Choir room  
****3:24 PM**

Ray and Charlie sat in the center of the choir room**,** Charlie on the piano bench and Ray on a plastic chair he dragged from the usual line up. Several times, when the Glee kids would begin to raise their voices at them or speak in whispers amongst each other, Ray would have to aim his gun to a student at random to shut them up. Other than the first few instances, they had remained generally quiet.

"When are they going to call?" wondered Charlie nervously. He stared at the phone in Ray's hand as if it were going to spontaneously catch fire. "I thought you said they'd call by now?"

"They will," Ray rolled his eyes and stretched his arms backward, completely at ease. "We've got thirteen hostages and dozens of students hiding out in classrooms. The police have no choice _but _to call. Don't sweat it."

Charlie nodded and felt someone's eyes on him. He turned his head and saw Finn staring at him intently. Feeling his face flush in embarrassment, he turned away.

"What do you mean you have thirteen hostages?" Mike asked from the floor. Tina shushed him right away.

Ray just gave a laugh.

"There is another guy with a gun, right?" Mike asked and Artie immediately nodded. The two of them had seen the three boys conversing outside.

"Yeah, and he's got one of your teammates with him," Ray called over. "So unless you want me to give him a call with a _plan_ for your friend, then I suggest you shut up."

Mike closed his mouth and winced in pain as he tensed a muscle in his leg.

Meanwhile, Finn continued to stare at Charlie. Charlie felt Finn's eyes on him and he couldn't help but fidget uncomfortably under the intense gaze.

"I know who you are," Finn finally voiced and Charlie glanced at him quickly.

Ray's ears perked up and he stood. Sauntering to the center of the room, he watched Finn unhappily. Then, he stopped, glanced at Charlie, and then back to Finn.

"Do you now?" Ray spoke curiously. "Why don't you let the class in on your sudden revelation?"

Finn ignored the quip.

"You're name is Charlie."

The room went completely still and silent. Charlie stared at a tile in the floor with wide eyes, petrified at being addressed so directly.

"It happened about a year ago," Finn recalled.

* * *

**McKinley High. (2011)  
****7:03 AM**

_'I'm freezing my balls off_,' Finn thought bitterly to himself as he trudged across the icy McKinley parking lot. The clouds has turned a nasty grey color and the ground was blanketed by nearly four inches of snow. '_Why couldn't they have cancelled school?'_ Finn wondered, his breath materialized in puffs in front of him. His cheeks and ears were turning bright red from the bite of winter that quickly approached.

He looked up as he neared the school, fantasizing about the gloriously warm hallways, when he noticed a couple of football players huddled around something. Naturally, he headed in their direction.

Then, he heard a shout.

"Stop!" came a defiant voice that Finn didn't recognize. He neared them just in time to see his teammates toss several blue slushies in the kid's face.

There was laughing and jeering as the boy in the middle cringed away. Finn could only imagine how intensely cold he was. The bullied boy made a sudden move, charging forward at one of the players.

"Hey!" Finn heard Azimio Adams yell as he yanked at the charging boy, throwing him against the brick wall of McKinley High.

They began to fight, but the boy didn't stand a chance. Azimio held him by the shoulders as Dave Karofsky landed a solid punch to his abdomen. When he doubled over, Azimio wrapped his arm around the kid's neck.

The slushied boy's freezing, stiff fingers scrambled at the player's arm, trying to get him to loosen his hold as the remaining teammates all decided to pants him. The young kid fought harder than ever as they yanked his jeans down to his ankles and then finally tossed him into the snow.

Finn watched the entire scene with wide eyes. He stared as his teammates walked away, celebratory and laughing. His breath came out in short shallow puffs, his heart thudding uncomfortably, and he looked down to the boy on the ground.

The kid quickly pulled his pants up from his spot the ground and looked up at Finn for a moment. His face and clothes were covered in bright blue syrup that, due to the freezing temperature, had began to dry, leaving his skin red, irritated, and splotchy.

He continued to watch Finn; his incredibly bright, blue eyes were almost asking a silent question.

Finn's frame twitched, unsure of what to do. Then, he looked away and walked inside the school.

* * *

**Choir room (2012)  
****3:31 PM**

"I should've stuck up for you," Finn continued, still staring fiercely at Charlie. "It's all my fault and no one here should have to pay for my lapse in judgment."

"Finn, _stop_."

Everyone turned, surprised at Blaine's sudden outburst. He was glaring at Finn.

"Wha—?"

"I know what you're trying to do," Blaine quarreled. "You're trying to play the hero. Just stop and think for one second—"

"I _have _been thinking about it," Finn argued, turning in his seat to face his stepbrother's boyfriend who sat in his usual spot in the back corner. "I'm thinking that because of me, you all are in this mess. And calling me a '_hero'_ just because I'm trying to make things right isn't—"

"Make things right _how, _exactly? By ruffling their feathers enough to kill you? Even in if this _was _your fault, taking a bullet won't make this right."

Everyone watched the two boys dueling. Even Ray and Charlie were watching interestedly.

"At least I'd be doing _something!" _Finn retorted. "Sitting here and knowing you all are in danger because of me…I can't let anything happen to you guys—"

"You know, Finn, you've got a _lot _of people that care about you," Blaine balled up his fists, wishing he could have an hour alone with a pair of boxing gloves and Finn's face. "You playing this sort of game will have a lot of repercussions. Namely, Burt, Carole, Kurt, and Rachel. So maybe you could shut up and think about _those_ people before yourself."

"All right, enough," Ray sighed, wielding his gun around at Blaine and he held his breath, eyeing it apprehensively. "Let him feel bad. He deserves it."

Finn dropped his eyes into his lap and Blaine felt fire burn in his throat.

"No, he doesn't. He didn't do anything."

Ray gave him a judgmental glance. He looked at him up and down and then his eyes tightened.

"You have a boyfriend, don't you?" he asked and Blaine's stomach dropped.

"I _refuse _to be afraid of you," he responded with a dark glare.

Ray turned to him.

"You have a boyfriend," Ray continued, unperturbed. "He used to be on the football team."

Blaine's dark eyebrows furrowed together.

"No, he wasn't."

"Yes, he was. He was a kicker."

Blaine feared for the sanity of the man who pointed a gun at him.

"I wonder how your football player boyfriend would react when he finds out that his partner is dead. Probably defeated, terrified, defenseless even. How Charlie feels. _E__very. Single. Day_."

"Kurt's been off the football team for two years now," Finn replied defensively, once again bringing the attention to himself. Blaine watched him, more confused than ever. "He only played for a few games and he's never laid a hand on anyone before. _He _was bullied. He has nothing to do with the team or Charlie."

Ray raised his eyebrows. Finn had just given him information that he hadn't intended to.

"Maybe I'll just kill this _Kurt_, seeing as how important he is to you then."

Finn's mouth opened and closed several times, feeling tremors ripple through his muscles.

"If you hurt him, I'll—"

Finn's threat was interrupted by a sudden techno ringtone and Charlie gave Ray an expectant, wide-eyed stare. Ray raised an eyebrow at Finn and then smiled widely.

"Show time," he spoke readily and lifted the speaker to his lips.

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **Thanks for reading! **Chapter Three: Cameras **will be posted next Sunday. Please leave a review! :)


	4. Chapter Three: Cameras

**gleebles A/N; **Tis an early Sunday morn, and I come bearing gifts! :) Thanks again for the support everyone!

Also, what did you guys think of that episode last Thursday?! Ahh, I watched the Klaine phone call _so_ many times. It was sooo good! Guess who cried like a newborn baby? I'll give you a hint: it was me.

This weeks looks good too! I watched spoilers where our boys were ice skating. Heart. Imploding.

Anyhoot, let their games continue...

Chapter Three  
"Cameras"

_No time for cameras,  
We'll use our eyes instead.  
__No time for cameras,  
__We'll be gone when we're dead._

* * *

**Outside McKinley High  
****3:36 PM**

"_Move!_" Burt yelled at the cars in front of him. The traffic around McKinley High was absurd and Mr. Hummel would be _damned _if he had to wait a second longer before reaching the police. People with answers.

He tried Carole again, but she was working her day shift at the hospital, so the call went straight to voicemail.

Burt looked up from his phone and noticed an officer directing traffic away from the school. He leaned in vehicle windows and explained the situation to the drivers in front of Burt.

As he neared Burt's truck, Burt rolled down the window.

"Sir," the man said, "we're trying to clear the roads—"

"What's going on?" Burt asked quickly, ignoring the officer's request. "My sons go to that school and I need to know if they're okay."

"I understand your concern, sir," the man continued in an even, understanding voice, "but we need these roads clear for EMT's—"

Burt rolled up his window, abruptly ending the conversation, and took off down the road. He parked at a bank near the school and sprinted towards the campus.

The situation was obviously not yet under control; there were men and women in uniforms _everywhere_, vans of camera crews and newscasters were just now entering the site, and students were going to and fro between police cars, ambulances, and buses. There was also no 'Do Not Cross' tape up yet to prevent families members like Burt to near the school.

Not that some lousy plastic would come between him and his family's safety anyway.

His eyes scanned the premises before landing on a familiar face.

"Schuester!"

Will and Emma turned as Burt hurried toward him.

"Bur—"

"What's going on?" Mr. Hummel questioned forcefully and the couple glanced at each other momentarily.

"There's a couple of kids that came into school today with guns," Emma spoke first, surprising Will. Normally she would've suggested he calmed down before absorbing such shocking news. "They have some students still in the school and the police are debating on the best way to get them all out."

Burt watched her carefully as she spoke, his eyes tight with concentration and worry. When Emma finished, Burt blinked at her.

"That's it?" he asked and they both stared blankly at him. "That's all you know?"

"That's all we've been told," Will reiterated, defending his fiancée.

Burt, impatient, turned to the nearest officers and headed in their direction. Burt heard voices filtering through a cell phone that one officer held and that the rest of his squad all huddled around. As Burt neared, one of the uniformed men turned around.

"I'm sorry sir, but uniformed personnel only," he spoke, pushing up his glasses arrogantly.

Burt opened his mouth to argue, but froze when he heard an all-too-familiar voice begin to yell. Recognition appeared in his widening eyes.

"_Look, Mike needs help! He's bleeding and starting to lose consciousness!_"

"Sir—" the officer with glasses repeated.

"That's my son," Burt breathed, cold dread dripping sickeningly into his bloodstream. "That's Finn."

"You need to back away, sir—"

"_That's my _son!"

* * *

**Room 107  
****3:48 PM**

"What's Ireland like?" Kurt asked, shifting Rory's balled up jacket against his temple. He lowered it for a moment so Rory could see if blood was still flowing.

Rory nodded at Kurt, who rolled his eyes and resumed the pressure, and then considered Kurt's question.

"It can be quite cold and wet at times," he answered, his voice using his ever-present, odd inflection, "but it's actually quite lovely. Beautiful green grass, rolling emerald hills, the nicest people I've ever known—besides the people in New Directions—, and some of the craziest drivers I've ever known—again, besides the kids in Glee club," he grinned.

Kurt smiled at him and winced slightly. He glanced toward the front of the classroom.

Ron still sat at the teacher's desk, switching between picking at his fingernails and getting comfortable in Mrs. Urbanski's lumpy chair. He ignored all the students, although his eyes would occasionally drift to the gun on the desk, then up to Sam. After a moment, his gaze would harden and then he'd go back to whatever he had been doing.

Sam rubbed soothing circles on Quinn's shoulder as she tried to control her breathing. She had quieted slightly as Kurt and Rory talked, listening pensively.

Santana still sat near the window and hadn't said a word since Kurt had been attacked. Her eyes were wide and fearful. She and the boy with mousy hair and glasses both stared blankly at their desks. No one addressed them and they made no attempt to communicate at all.

"What about your parents?" Kurt continued.

"Oh," Rory reminisced with a mischievous twinkle appearing in his eyes, "my mum is a saint and _the _best cook _ever_. And my dad is a bit of a goofball."

Kurt gave a half smile, trying not to strain the right side of his face.

His head had cleared slightly. The thick fog had lifted after fifteen minutes and his confusion also slipped away, although it left behind a pounding headache. Talking helped with the pain and his nervousness about the whole ordeal.

"What are your parents like?" Rory wondered.

"My dad is…pretty much the exact opposite of me," Kurt gave a short, soft laugh. "He wears flannel shirts, baseball caps, and Levi jeans. He works with cars, likes fishing and camping, listens to John Mellencamp, and can watch reruns of _The Simpsons _all day long."

Rory winced.

"That must be awful. Do you hate living at home then?"

Kurt gave Rory a peculiar look.

"No, not at all; he's my dad. I mean, can you imagine _two _Hummels as fabulous as I am living under one roof? Disaster. Exquisite interior design and meticulously trimmed gardens, yes, but _disaster_."

"And does he...accept you?" Rory asked awkwardly and Kurt smiled at him.

"Yes, he loves me."

"And your mom?"

Kurt's smile flickered.

"I lost my real mom when I was young, but Finn's mom, Carole, is my stepmother. And she's absolutely wonderful."

Rory and Kurt smiled at each other for a moment before the pain in Kurt's head flared up and throbbed painfully. He closed his eyes and exhaled shakily.

Everything was completely quiet in the room for the moment, including Quinn. The normalcy had eased their minds, if only for a moment.

And it _was _only a moment.

Suddenly, Ron's cell phone went off and Quinn's gasps returned immediately.

Ron picked up the phone with an icy expression and raised it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"I just talked to the police," came Ray's low voice.

"And?" Ron asked expectantly.

"They're not negotiating—yet. They will. We're sticking to the plan and once they call again, we'll give them our one rule. That's when they'll start listening to us."

Ron's eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you sure?"

"Ron, come on, man. Do you think they'll risk all these lives before they give us what we want?"

"I guess not."

"We're still in control. Are you with me?"

Ron's eyebrows relaxed and his eyes grew fierce.

"Always."

"Alright," Ron could hear a smile in Ray's voice. "I'll call you back soon."

"Okay."

* * *

**Choir Room  
****4:04 PM**

Charlie and Ray were whispering as soon as Ray got off the phone, but quickly looked up as they heard a shout.

"Mike, try to hold still," Tina huffed as she tried to tie Mercedes's scarf around Mike's wound. His face was pale and he took shallow, rattling breaths.

He glanced up at Artie who hovered slightly above him.

"Did I bleed on you?" Mike asked faintly, nodding to Artie's sweater. Artie glanced down and saw a scarlet stain on the hem and another on his brown corduroy pants. "I'm so sorry."

Artie laughed, even though guilt nearly ate him up inside. He wished Mike hadn't protected him. His legs didn't even work anyway.

"I can't believe it even hit you," Artie shook his head. "I thought you'd disappear when you turned sideways."

Mike gave a weak laugh, but then cringed as Tina tightened the scarf.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, feeling tears prickle at her eyes.

Blaine and Puck exchanged a glance and exhaled heavily.

Finn, however, was watching Charlie again who stared at Mike with wide eyes.

"You shouldn't feel sorry for them," Ray scoffed at Charlie who immediately looked up at Ray. "They're the ones who hurt you."

"Mike didn't do anything," Finn spoke up and everyone turned to him. "He's someone who would've stood up for someone like you."

Mike, if he wasn't in pain and wasn't terrified of Ray's intense glare, would have been flattered at Finn's kind words. Instead, he watched as Ray stood up and glowered at Finn loathsomely.

"Alright," he called loudly and the room went deadly quiet. "You want to make this all about you, _hero_?" Blaine threw Finn an unseen exasperated glance. "Then let's make it all about you—stand up."

Finn stared, wide-eyed, at Ray, but stood slowly. He walked to the middle of the room in silence.

Ray stepped up to him. Ray was at least five inches shorter than Finn and half as wide, yet still seemed to dominate in comparison. Perhaps the gun in his right hand had something to do with it.

"Are you sorry for what you did?" Ray asked him with tight eyes.

Finn swallowed.

"Yeah, I am."

Ray nodded, mocking an expression of being impressed, and glanced back to Charlie, then returned to Finn.

"Say you're sorry then. No," Ray quickly interrupted as Finn opened his mouth. "_Look _at him and tell him you're sorry."

Finn's eyes flicked behind Ray's figure and landed on Charlie.

"Charlie, come here."

Although he looked like he would rather chew on a porcupine than face Finn, Charlie stood up and took Ray's position in front of Finn.

"Go on," Ray commanded.

Finn stared at Charlie earnestly, but Charlie averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, come on, you can do better than that!" Ray laughed and the room, if possible, got even quieter. "Get on your knees."

Finn, his face coloring, hesitated. Then he dropped to his knees.

"I'm sorry."

Ray leaned forward and whispered in Charlie's ear.

"Look at him, Charlie," he said with a smile in his whisper. Charlie glanced at Finn and then looked away quickly. "You see? _ This_," Ray tapped the gun in Charlie's hand lightly, "was the _only _way."

Charlie nodded slightly and Ray leaned away.

Then, the room gasped as Ray spit on Finn's face.

"Get back in your seat," he exhaled victoriously and Finn closed his eyes before rising to his feet.

"Are you _serious_?"

"Puck, it's okay—" Finn interrupted, feeling as if Puck had been holding himself back from shouting earlier. "It's fine."

"He didn't do anything wrong!" Puck yelled and Ray's face reddened. "This is such _garbage_!"

"Do you want to be next?" Ray threatened, raising his weapon, but Puck continued.

"Maybe what we did was wrong, but I've done worse things to nicer people than Charlie. This is high school! It happens to everyone! I mean, hell, we locked Artie in a damn porta-potty, but now we're friends!"

Artie's eyes widened, not sure if it was of being mentioned at all or Puck's sudden declaration of friendship that surprised him.

"That's_ exactly_ the problem," Ray shouted, waving his gun around spastically. "Tormenting people like Charlie; it's just become a normal occurrence for you! And now we're doing the same thing to you and it_ upsets_ you?" Ray barked a laugh and breathed heavily for a moment, his jaw tensing.

Then, he turned around.

"You had this coming."

* * *

**A/N; MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW!** Give the sweet gift of reviews. :)

Our story continues next week with **Chapter Four: Talk**.


	5. Chapter Four: Talk

**gleebles A/N; ****Read the A/N at the end of the story for more information regarding Chapter Five!**

Thanks for all the continued support, especially XxXYoulovemeanywaysXxX! Thanks for your reviews! Hope you all are enjoying _Within the Cinderblocks. _

Chapter Four  
"Talk"

_Oh brother, I can't, I can't get through,  
__I've been trying hard to reach you,  
_'_Cause I don't know what to do.  
__Oh brother, I can't believe it's true,  
__I'm so scared about the future and I wanna talk to you,  
__I wanna talk to you._

* * *

**Outside McKinley High  
****4:30**

Things outside McKinley had become calmer and more organized. All the students who had been answering police questions and helped by EMT's were all gone by that point.

There were still parents who were frantically trying to make their way past the line of policemen and get to the school. However, the cops restrained and talked them down quite effectively. Most of the family and friends who had been fighting desperately to get to their children turned away from the police and attempted to contact the victim via cell phone. Most were unsuccessful, but Will and Emma saw some parent's eyes light up and start laughing or crying when they learned of their children's safety.

Burt chewed on his fingernail and shifted his weigh between feet anxiously. He too had been trying Kurt and Finn's cell phone for over an hour now, but he met the same voicemails over and over again. He'd left messages for them both, pleading for their replies as soon as they got the voicemail.

So all he could do was wait.

"Burt?"

Burt broke out of his trance and glanced up at the uniformed woman behind the 'Do Not Cross' tape. His eyes lit up and he uncrossed his arms.

"Desireé," he exhaled in relief and began toward the tape.

Desireé was the mother of Kurt's friend, Mercedes. Once, before she or Kurt had their driver's license, Burt took his son over to Mercedes house to hang out and when he arrived, Mrs. Jones was in her front yard watering the grass. After Kurt ran inside to find Mercedes, Desireé and Burt chatted for quite some time.

He learned many things about her and her family, but one thing that stuck out in Burt's mind was that she was a member of the Lima Police Force.

"Please tell me you have some information," Burt pleaded as he halted in front of her.

He already knew the answer based of her expression.

"Not yet," she spoke and even though Burt expected it, his heart sank further. "But we're working on it," she offered.

"Why aren't there uniforms in there right now?" Burt demanded, frustration evolving out of his anxiety.

"It's complicated," Desireé said, pushing a curl off her smooth, dark skin. "I can't say much, but do have information that nobody has been seriously injured yet."

That did nothing to calm Burt's nerves.

"I understand," Burt spoke shakily, "that you all know how to do your job. I'm not questioning that. But _please_, do everything you can."

Desireé nodded and smiled slightly.

"We always do, Burt. I'll try to keep you updated, okay?"

Burt nodded weakly and they both turned away from each other.

Burt rejoined Will and Emma and they offered him a reassuring twitch of the lips, but he couldn't return the gesture. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and tried Finn again.

He glanced back toward Desireé and realized, with a dip of his stomach, that she was also staring at her phone blankly, praying as Burt did, for a call.

* * *

**Room 107  
****4:39 PM**

Cell phones all chimed together in Room 107, but Ron ignored them pointedly. In fact, he had his own phone in his hands and played a game to pass the time between Ray's calls. He yawned openly and blinked his eyes heavily. **  
**

"I feel sick."

Everyone tore away from their individual thoughts and turned to Kurt who had broken the long silence. The fog had reappeared and his head continued to pound achingly. The pain caused his stomach to churn unpleasantly and suddenly, his mouth began to water.

Ron glanced over at him.

"Do you need a trashcan?" he asked, surprising many of the students.

Kurt clapped a hand over his mouth and swallowed, nodding furiously. The sudden motion caused his head to feel as if his brain had been jostled around freely within his skull and his stomach heaved forcefully.

Ron reached beside Mrs. Urbanski's desk and tossed the small wastebasket toward Rory. Rory caught it quickly and thrust it under Kurt's face.

Santana, Quinn, Sam, Rory, and the boy with glasses all grimaced when they heard Kurt retch loudly and emptily. There was a gruesome, audible sound of Kurt's stomach contents rushing north as he heaved. Then, he gagged again and they heard liquids splashing into the hollow can.

Kurt coughed, heaved, and tried to catch breath for a few moments before he leaned away from the trashcan. His face was chalky and sweaty.

"Are you okay?" Rory asked lowly and Kurt shrugged slightly.

"I'm so nauseous," Kurt gasped, trying to keep his insides _inside_.

"Try tucking your head between your knees."

Kurt looked over his shoulder towards the unfamiliar voice. The boy with glasses and light brown hair was looking at him, nonthreateningly. He was frowning, but nodded encouragingly.

"Try it," he repeated and Kurt turned around, leaning forward. He maneuvered his head in between his knees and exhaled.

He felt a bit better already.

* * *

**Choir Room  
****4:30 PM**

Three cell phones rang with similar preset ringtones. Two vibrated nonstop. One let out Katy Perry's new song _Wide Awake_. Another began to play _I'm Bringing Sexy Back_.

Everyone glanced to Puck and Puck shrugged.

"Not mine," he said jealously, looking like he wished it were. "It's Artie's."

Blaine, Tina, Mike, Finn, and Mercedes looked to Artie with raised eyebrows.

"Justin's the man," he shrugged defensively.

"You know," Ray spoke and their brief moment of humor dissolved instantly, the period of relaxation quickly swallowed up by fear, "I'm truly _amazed _that people are worried about you."

Puck furrowed his eyebrows.

"What do you expect?" he asked Ray as if he were stupid. "We have friends and family that care about us."

"That's what I find so amazing," Ray spat back, narrowing his eyes at Puck.

"You're surprised that our families are concerned for us," Blaine stated blankly and Ray turned his attention to him. "We're locked in a room with two insane gunmen and you think that no one cares for our safety?"

"Not for people like them!" Ray shouted.

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"What did they even do to you?" he asked, looking doubtful.

"What they did to _him_!" Ray screamed, his eye twitching madly. His breath came out heavily and they watched him, thinking that he looked, quite simply, _crazy. _Even Charlie eyed him nervously.

"We didn't do anything to _you_!" Puck jumped in immediately at Blaine's comment.

"_Shut up or you're going to regret it_!"

"You're a coward!" Puck protested.

"You shot up a _school_!" Finn jumped in.

"I said _SHUT UP_!" Ray wielded his gun around blindly.

"You're a coward," Puck continued, "hiding behind your friend—your friend who couldn't take a couple of shoves and insults—just so you can shoot up an entire school because you're unhappy with being at the bottom of the high school food chain!"

Ray, his eye twitching uncontrollably by this point, lowered his gun and reached into his pocket. Everyone watched in confusion.

Ray pulled out his phone. He dialed a number and placed it on speakerphone.

"Hello?" they heard Ron's voice.

"_Waste one_," Ray exhaled maddeningly into the receiver, a mad glint surfacing in his eyes.

_"No, no, no, NO, NO!"_

There was a loud bang from the hallway and milliseconds later, they distinguished the muffled gunshot through the receiver.

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **Thanks for reading! Since this was a shorter chapter _and _left on a cliffhanger, **Chapter Five: Shocked **will be posted **on Thursday, December 13th**, and be prepared...it's a _really_ good one! :)

Reviews make the world go round! :)


	6. Chapter Five: Shocked

**gleebles A/N; **Glee day! : D Let's get back to the action!

Chapter Five  
"Shocked"

_Tell me I'm only dreaming and I'll believe you,  
__Can't see how this could be true.  
__Surrounded by feelings I hardly recognize,  
__I look for explanations I'm taken by surprise._

* * *

**Outside McKinley High  
****4:32 PM**

_Bang._

Everyone started and turned toward the school.

Then, there was chaos.

"Why aren't there men getting in there?!" Burt nearly screamed at the uniformed men behind the 'Do Not Cross' tape. "_Hey! Did you not hear that_?!"

"Burt," Will spoke, his voice shaking, clearly shaken by the unfamiliar, but distinct noise. "Look—"

"_My boys might be in there_!" Burt continued to scream. His heart thundered nervously in his chest and fear gripped tightly around his heart. "_Do something_!"

The men and women were gathered together and the chief of police seemed to be giving them strict instructions, but no one was storming inside the school and that did not sit right with Burt.

"_Please—_!" he very nearly choked out, feeling as lost and confused and _helpless_ as when he found out that his wife had cancer.

"Burt, they know what they're doing—" Will tried again.

"We're trying, Burt," Desireé spoke, nearing him. "We're going to contact the gunman again—"

"That's not good enough!" he yelled and felt hot, desperate tears prickling in his eyes.

Suddenly, he saw flash of red speed past him. He and Will both turned, stunned, as Sue Sylvester sprinted off towards the school.

"Sue!" Will yelled out just as she yanked open the front door and disappeared.

* * *

**Room 153  
****4:32 PM**

There was a gunshot.

Reactions varied. Many gasped, some shouted out in panic, a couple whimpered, and one girl was chanting over and over that it was all just a terrible, terrible dream.

_A nightmare._

Beiste had jumped and glanced toward the door in shock. _What had happened?_

"We need to get out of here!" one hysterical girl yelled. "We're going to be next if we don't get out of here!"

"We're going to be next if we _do _leave!" a guy screamed back at her.

"_Hey_!" Beiste bellowed and they all looked at her with wide, afraid eyes. She responsible for all these teenagers. For all these children. And she would protect them. "We're going to be okay. No one's going to hurt you. Not while I'm around, do you understand?"

Some of the students nodded quickly, but others stared slack jawed at their protector.

Beiste nodded back firmly, "I've already called the police and they're devising a plan right now, okay? You contacted your parents—they know your safe and in good hands. We're going to make it through this _alive _and _together_. Do you understand?" she asked again.

This time, everyone nodded.

Beiste offered a small smile and turned back to the door once more, peering out the window.

She made sure none of her students were watching her before making sure the doorknob was locked for the hundredth time.

* * *

**Choir room  
****4:32 PM**

There was no noise in the choir room for nearly thirty seconds after Ray's sudden phone call. No one moved, no one spoke, no one breathed. Wide, unmoving eyes trained on the gunman in disbelief.

Then, one head turned.

"That…," Tina spoke, her voice shaking uncertainly, "That was Kurt…who was screaming, wasn't it?" Her eyes danced pleadingly for someone to challenge her suspicion.

"You shot my brother?" Finn exhaled softly. Several eyes turned to him in silent horror.

Ray made a noise of disgust and glared piercingly across the room.

"You idiotic jocks will _never_ learn your lesson—"

"You shot _Kurt_?" Finn repeated, rising to his feet.

Blaine stared ahead blankly.

"You had it coming!" Ray shouted back at him and Charlie winced at the loud threat.

Finn felt the urge to run up and punch Ray square in the face overwhelm him and he took a step forward to act on his impulse just as Puck flew past him.

Finn stared in shock as Puck threw himself at Ray and tackled him to the ground. Charlie had also been caught off guard by the attack, and quite frankly, the attack_er_, and as he jumped, the back of his legs caught the piano bench, and he fell over.

"Mercedes," Artie suddenly diverted everyone else's attention. "You and Tina take Mike outside!"

"Hell _no_—" Mercedes began, her eyebrows pinching together incredulously. She would never leave her friends in trouble.

"Look, you have about two seconds," Artie spoke urgently, glancing quickly at Puck and Ray scrambling in the center of the classroom. "And Mike needs serious help."

"Please Mercedes," Tina pleaded, taking one of Mike's arms and pulling him forward.

Mercedes swallowed down hard, looking down at all the blood and Mike's greyish face, and she nodded, reaching out and taking his other arm.

Finn, who had been watching the fight go down in shock, suddenly snapped out of his trance and realized what his classmates were planning. He glanced at the two girls and Mike heading towards the door that was closest to Charlie.

So Finn stepped forward to distract Charlie.

"Don't touch them!" Charlie hissed as Finn neared Ray and Puck. Finn glared at Charlie suddenly.

"What are you gonna do, huh?" he asked loudly over the grunts and cries of pain. Finn laughed drily. "That's right—nothing."

He took a step toward Puck just as Charlie pulled the trigger on his gun. He sound of the gunfire masked the faint _click _of the door closing.

Mercedes, Tina, and Mike had escaped safely.

Puck yelled out in pain and Ray took his momentary distraction to shove him backwards.

Puck's arm was suddenly bleeding profusely from the grazed bullet wound in his bicep.

Finn bent down to help Puck just as Ray threw himself to his feet and wiped angrily at the blood slipping from his split lip. But then he glanced at Charlie.

Charlie was standing with both his hands on the gun. It pointed steadily down at Puck who was holding his arm and glaring up at him defiantly.

"You've got him Charlie," Ray spoke softly, despite his sudden brawl. He moved behind Charlie's back and placed his hands on Charlie's shoulders.

"You've got him," he murmured close to his ear and Charlie's eyebrows pinched together slightly. He looked almost confused.

"You've got him _exactly _where you want him."

* * *

**A/N gleebles; **Thanks for reading! : ) Sorry about the length, but the next one (**Chapter Six: Dear** **Agony**)is guaranteed to be longer!

Please leave a review!


	7. Chapter Six: Dear Agony

**gleebles A/N; **Hello everyone. Thank you for stopping by again for this weeks chapter, but I feel like I should address the tragedy that occurred this Friday in Connecticut.

I felt so sickened by the news when I heard that twenty-six people had died, twenty of them being children. They had their whole lives ahead of them and having it happen so close to Christmas, a normally joyful day, makes my heart ache for the families. I can't even imagine their grief and sufferings...my heart goes out to those whose hearts are breaking.

That being said, this story, if for some reason you haven't read anything up until this point, involves weapons and confused, mentally unstable teenagers. If you are too stricken to read about guns or blood, I advise you to stop reading here. If this story helps you escape this pains of this world and enter another, like most books, movies, or songs do, they by all means read it. However, if the content is too fresh for you, then **please do you not continue reading**. I don't want further heartache.

So, here it continues.

Chapter Six  
"Dear Agony"

_Dear Agony,  
__Just let go of me.  
__Suffer slowly,  
__Is this the way it's gotta be?_

* * *

**McKinley High  
****4:35 PM**

Sue burst into the school, her eyes darting around wildly. She paused momentarily, wondering where on Earth to begin.

_'Alrighty, Sue,' _she thought to herself, starting down a hallway. _'If I were a nose-picking, acne-cream slathering, speed limit ignoring, horny prepubescent, where would I be hiding?'_

She continued her fast-paced stride, not thinking of the gunmen who lurked somewhere within her school, but instead of the students those gunmen were threatening.

_Her _students.

Suddenly, she halted in front of a classroom door.

She heard voices behind a door labeled 'Room 153.' And she recognized a distinct voice.

"_The police told me that a woman in a track suit just raced into the school_." There was a laugh.

"Female version of Jack Black?" Sue wondered. The voices quieted immediately. Sue rapt on the door.

"Sue?" Beiste called out.

"The one and only," Sue replied.

There was a pause and Sue saw Beiste's panicky face look through the window of the door. Her face broke out in a tense smile and she opened the door.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked. Every student rose to his or her feet immediately, looked as if they were itching to bolt from the room, and staring at Sue as if she were a God.

Sue studied the students in her signature narrow-eyed and pursed-lipped expression before turning her gaze toward the football coach.

"No one terrorizes this school except me," Sue declared, jabbing a thumb at her chest. "Now let's go!"

* * *

**Room 107  
****4:34 PM**

"Come on, Rory," Kurt pleaded, pressing his dark blue sweater against the wound that was buried deeply between Rory's ribs, right under his heart. "Hang in there."

Rory's shaking hands clenched over Kurt's, gripping him so tightly that his fingernails cut into the back of Kurt's hands. He coughed and sputtered. His eyes rolling upward before wincing them closed.

Ron sat at the teacher's desk once again and eyed Kurt and Rory with little interest. He yawned and checked his watch vacantly.

"Why did you do that?!" Sam finally shouted at Ron, causing Quinn to flinch violently beside him. He had been struck silent ever since Ron used the gun on Rory. "He didn't even do _anything_! If anything it should've been—"

"Shut up!" Santana suddenly ordered. Her voice was shaking.

Sam looked to her quickly.

She was staring at Ron in pure and utter _terror. _Her eyes were impossibly wide and her eyebrows pinched together high on her forehead. Her mouth was opened too widely, watching Ron as if she had never seen anything quite like him before.

Santana was, Sam concluded, paralyzed down to her core. She had not taken Ron seriously. She had completely misread him and didn't think he had the balls to really shoot anyone and was appalled at his complete and utter lack of empathy as he watched Rory bleed out in front of him. She stared at him as if he were a monster.

Rory suddenly keened loudly.

"Come on, Rory," Kurt's high-pitched voice cracked, ignoring the pain that twisted up in his head again and spiraled downward into his stomach.

Suddenly, one of Rory's hands shot out and clenched the front of Kurt's white tee shirt desperately.

Kurt glanced down at the fist that scrunched the plain fabric. The scarlet blood on Rory's skin was shocking against the snowy material.

"I'm here, Rory," Kurt reassured, knowing that Rory's hand had been seeking the proximity of his body. He shifted his chair closer. "I'm not going anywhere."

Rory grimaced in pain, revealing bloodstained teeth.

Kurt's heart dipped.

_That is not a good sign._

"Stay with me!" Kurt's panicky voice ordered.

Tears rolled down the sides of Rory's face.

* * *

**Choir room  
****4:33 PM**

Puck continued to glare at Ray who smiled down at him from behind Charlie menacingly. Everyone else was still and silent.

They all stared at the gun in Charlie's shaking hand.

"_You've got him Charlie_," Ray whispered lowly, excitedly. He hadn't even noticed Mercedes's, Tina's, or Mike's disappearance. He only had eyes for Puck and Charlie.

Finn stood less than a yard behind Puck and shifted his weight between feet. His focus flicked between his best friend to the gun, then to Ray. He wondered what he could say in order for Charlie to drop his weapon. However, everything he thought of included Ray raising his own.

"You know you made my life hell?" Charlie spoke softly. His head cocked to the side ever so slightly and his bright, unworldly blue eyes gazed hauntingly down at Puck. "I wasn't sure _exactly_ how I was going to die, but I had an idea. Either you were going to kill me when one of you and your friend's attacks eventually went too far…or I'd have to do it myself."

Puck's face split into a distressed frown. The hand that clamped around his injured bicep twitched. His mouth opened and closed several times.

"I—" he began.

"It was all of us," Finn suddenly interrupted and Charlie immediately fixed the firearm at him.

"Excuse me?" Charlie asked, his voice small, but strangely eerie.

"It wasn't just Puck," Finn stuck up for his friend and Puck eyed him horrifically from his spot on the ground. "We all bullied you."

"Finn, man, what are you doing?" Puck spoke loudly and Charlie's arm shifted to Puck once again.

"It wasn't just Puck," Finn repeated, firm, and Charlie once again followed the conversation with a finger on the trigger. His eye twitched.

"He started it though, Charlie," Ray muttered angrily at Finn and suddenly blanched when Charlie turned the gun on him. Ray stared at him incredulously, throwing his hands in the air. "Hey, hey, what are you doing?!"

Charlie hesitated for just a moment, before redirecting it at Puck once again.

They were all silence, except for Charlie's heavy breathing. His eye was still twitching.

Ray regarded him from behind with disbelieving eyes. That was most certainly unexpected.

And startling.

Carefully, he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. Ray considered it a good sign when Charlie didn't flinch, throw him off, or turn on him again.

"Why don't we just relax for a second, okay?" Ray spoke slowly. Charlie did not move or speak, so Ray turned a glare at the students. "Get back in your seats."

He didn't even wait to watch Finn help Puck up to his feet; he turned around and pulled out his cell phone.

It rang once before the receiver picked up.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, I need you," Ray spoke quietly, chancing a glance over his shoulder. The hostages were all in their seats and, he noticed suddenly, some were missing. His eyes narrowed, but tried to focus on what he was saying to Ron. _'One thing at a time,' _he thought to himself. "Let's merge our two rooms. Lead them down the hall and then let them go. Except the one we care about."

He paused and peeked at Charlie once again.

"Charlie's…he's coming a little unhinged."

"Okay," Ron agreed without question. "We'll head that way now."

Ray exhaled as he ended the call and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

Charlie's weapon was still trained on Puck and his hand, Ray noticed, was steady.

* * *

**The Berry House  
****4:40 PM**

Rachel Berry hummed as Barbra Striesand's "The Way We Were" filled the pink bedroom with her idol's voice. It really was quite a melancholy song, she thought as she blew her nose pathetically.

Of course her fathers' _had _to go on that African reaching out trip with LeRoy's coworkers from the hospital. One of them had contracted some weird illness (Which, in retrospect, had the same symptoms of the flu…) and whoever that unfortunate father was had inevitably passed it on to their daughter. Thus, Rachel Berry was forced to skip school to receive copious amounts of rest, chicken noodle soup, and periodic aromatherapy sessions conducted by her father Hiram.

The song was nearing one of her favorite parts and she tried to sing along.

_Memories, may be beautiful and yet,  
__What's too painful to remember?  
__We simply choose to forget,  
__So it's the laughter,  
__We will remember._

She sighed. Her voice was more pathetic than when she had an inner ear infection.

Before she could dwell on the matter any further, her phone rang.

Rachel sighed and sat up in bed, feeling quite dizzy and tired. Picking up her phone, she groaned at the caller ID.

"Mr. Schuester, I wasn't even in your history class today," Rachel moaned tiredly. "Don't you think if I could have made it to Glee club today, I would've? My Dad's have a bug and now I've got it. Don't worry though; I'm resting and will be back in tip-top shape by Monday."

She listened for Mr. Schuester's reply and she suddenly fell silent. Her eyes began to widen and her jaw slackened.

"_What_?"

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will be posted next Sunday.


	8. Chapter Seven: Sweet Serendipity

**A/N; **Well, I was very sad today because I just realized there is no Glee tonight. :( I figured you guys would be too. So I decided that I would make my followers of this story happy by updating early and, in turn, make me happy when/if you guys review! Please enjoy this early chapter!

**ALSO READ THIS:** If you guys are looking for a good read, check out _Roses in December _by **ckofshadows**. She recently updated and I just remembered how much I enjoy her writing! Check it out after you read this chapter!**  
**

Okay, let's begin (seriously, check it out though).

Chapter Seven  
"Sweet Serendipity"

_I ain't gonna stress,  
__Cause the worst ain't happened yet.  
__Something's watching over me,  
__Like sweet serendipity._

* * *

**Room 107  
****4:40 PM**

The students studied Ron's face as he listened to the voice over the phone. It was quiet except for Rory's shallow, ragged breathing. Normally, they could catch a few words of the person from the other line, but whomever it was Ron talked to was speaking unusually quiet.

Ron suddenly gave a quick nod and responded to the caller.

"Okay, we'll head that way now," he said and everyone visibly tensed. Ron lowered the cell phone and ended the call.

"Let's go," he ordered, stood and picked up the gun from the teacher's desk.

No one moved. Everyone just stared.

Ron clenched his jaw suddenly, "I SAID LET'S—" he screamed, stepping forward and once again swinging the gun swiftly against Kurt's head, "—GO!"

Everyone flinched upon hearing the crack against Kurt's head for the third time. Santana even let out an uncharacteristic whimper as she stood.

Santana, Sam, and (with help from Sam as she started hyperventilating once again) Quinn all stood, but Kurt and Rory remained sedentary.

"Come on, Kurt," Sam spoke as they all moved to the front. Ron stared down at Kurt who was still slouched from the blow, but visibly positioning himself in front of Rory's body.

Shielding him.

"No," he mumbled out. The pain in his head had reached a new level, and he did not think that was possible. It was pure agony.

"Kurt," Santana exhaled sharply, still staring at Ron nervously.

"I'm not going to leave him," Kurt insisted.

Rory was…for lack of better words, in bad shape. His skin had lost its usual flushed tone and was instead a sickening grey shade. His eyes struggled to stay opened and, when they did, they rolled around as if they could not see straight. Blood must've collected in his lungs because it bubbled in his mouth as he fought for oxygen. The hand that had previously gripped at his side lay weakly on his lap.

"Let's go," Ron spoke again and Sam, who had been staring at Rory with heartache, faced him.

"Come on," Sam pleaded, losing all his anger and defiance. "_Please_. Allow him to have his last moments with people that care about him."

Ron eyed Sam suspiciously. No one knew what he was looking for exactly in Sam's expression, but no one particularly cared because he must have found it. He nodded curtly.

"Fine," he spoke and gestured for them to continue.

Sam, relieved by the permission, turned to Rory and knelt beside him. He gathered his limp hand and squeezed it firmly in his. He ignored the sticky blood the pressed between them.

"We're all here with you Rory," he spoke softly, yet strongly. "We love you."

Rory's eyes slid open by the tiniest fraction and, by some miracle, his eyes were calm and focused. He looked at Kurt.

"Even though I couldn't understand half of what you said," Santana choked out a watery laugh, "you were always smiling and…I always appreciated that. Sometimes we forget what there is to smile about, but you brought reasons to smile to McKinley," she sniffed as tears pooled in her eyes. "Thank you."

Sam looked up at Quinn who had tears streaming down her face. She began to open her mouth, but her expression tore and she shook her head back and forth violently.

"I'm s-sorry," she sobbed, losing all composure and Sam stood to wrap an arm around her.

Rory was still staring at Kurt.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but Rory seemed to be shaking his head.

"Thank you," he managed to say, sounding awfully coagulated from the curdling pool of blood in his mouth.

Kurt flinched.

"I—" he began, but jumped forcefully when a gunshot rang out in the classroom.

Sam and Santana both whipped their heads around to stare at Ron. He lowered his gun and looked up at them.

"Let's go," he spoke calmly.

Kurt stared in shock at Rory's face.

His empty eyes were still directed at him.

* * *

**McKinley High  
****4:39 PM**

"_Shh!_" Sue hissed over her shoulder. "_Stop dragging those ham hocks!"_

Beiste threw her a look and she gestured for the students behind her to hurry up.

They were walking in two groups: Sue called her group Team A, or simply "Winners" and then there was Beiste's group, which Sue labeled as Team B. "Losers" if you were being technical. They travelled down the hallway slowly, with Sue in front, followed by the Winners, then Beiste, and then the Losers playing caboose.

They were nearing the entrance doors to the school and as they did, their footsteps quickened. So far, they hadn't caught sight of any students or gunmen since Sue had entered the school and they didn't want to any chances—

_BANG._

Several students screamed and Sue dropped to the ground. Beiste threw her arms open wide in front of her group of teenagers, but there was nothing to protect them from.

The shot had come from a distant classroom.

Sue glanced up from the tile and then turned to look at Beiste.

"Should we make a run for it?" Bieste asked aloud. Many people in her group were crying. Ironically, none of the Winners were crying, just shaking.

Sue thought about that as she stood. Then, she shook her head.

"Let's just keep a slow pace. It sounded like it came from somewhere down the halls. I'll just keep an eye out."

Beiste nodded and, steeling themselves, the troupe continued forward.

The rest of the trip was tense. There was nothing but the sounds of their footsteps and their heartbeats thundering in their ears. Sue kept an eye out, but, as far as she could tell, no one had come out from his or her hiding spots except for Beiste and her kids.

Finally, Sue made it to the last hallway before they'd be outside. She glanced around the corner, down a hall full of classrooms, where a gunman could easily be hiding behind one of the twenty or so doors.

She paused and turned around to her students.

"Go," she ordered, jerking her head toward the front doors. They nodded, lunged across the hallway, burst through the doors, and disappeared from view.

Beiste crossed the hall next and then beckoned her kids forward. They too, hurried to the doors and sprinted away from the nightmare.

Beiste waved Sue forward and Sue, glancing around, walked across the hall.

Just as she passed it, she peeked down it one more time, and jumped when she saw, at the very end of the hall, the back of a tall, blonde-haired boy helping a shorter, brunette boy round the corner.

Sue froze and blinked.

They were gone.

"Sue?" Beiste called and Sue jerked her head toward her. Beiste motioned for her to step forward.

Sue nodded, checking the hall again to make sure it was empty, and then hurried outside.

The sight they met was stunning. The students they had helped outside were either being questioned by police or enveloped tightly in their parent's arms. The air was full of laughing, crying, and thanking.

"I can't believe we made it out," Beiste exhaled and looked back at the school as soon as they were safe behind the yellow tape. "And to think there are still students in there…"

Sue, too, stared up at McKinley High and felt her stomach lurch. There were more kids inside…

"Ma'am, you aren't going back inside," came a voice to her right and felt a hand wrap around her forearm. She hadn't even realized she was walking back toward the school.

Sue turned to the police officer and narrowed her eyes.

"I resent being told what to do for my school," she spoke and heard another voice call her name. She ignored it as she stared down the man in uniform.

"We'll take it from here," he spoke with a 'no-question-about-it' tone. Sue heard her name being called again.

"I've done more than your men have and those are _my _kids in there," Sue challenged, but the policeman kept a firm hand on her arm.

"It doesn't matter what you say," he spoke, although he was seemingly impressed and respectful toward her, "I can't let you back inside."

"Sue!"

She yanked her arm away from the policeman's grip and turned to see who was bugging her.

It was Porcelain's dad.

"Sue," Burt yelled again from behind the wall of police officers. Sue gave the officer one last glare before approached him. "Did you see any other kids in there?"

Sue's eyebrows wrinkled at him.

"Did you see anyone…else?" he asked pleadingly. "Any other students?"

Sue's thoughts immediately jumped to the pair that rounded the corner in the hallway. The brunette's highly stylized hair was too distinct to mistake him for anyone else in _Ohio, _let alone the school…but he had appeared and disappeared so quickly…

Had she really seen him?

Sue hesitated before she shook her head.

"No."

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will be posted on Sunday, as per usual! :) Please review!

Check out _Roses in December _by **ckofshadows! **It is SO GOOD.

**One last thing: **If I got a Tumblr, would you guys like to contact me through that? I've been thinking about it recently, but I don't know if it'd be worth it...let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter Eight: Into the Nothing

**gleebles A/N; **Hello folks! **I've created a Tumblr**! I'm quickly figuring out how it works and I update it quite frequently, so if you want to follow it or ask a question on it, feel free! My name is:

** aglassofgleeblesplease . tumblr . com**

(Someone stole the username 'gleebles'.) Heehee!

Lastly, I'd just like to thank everyone for reviewing the story! Nothing makes me happier than to feel like I'm writing to an audience and to receive feedback! Thank you so much for the continued support!

Merry Christmas!

Chapter Eight  
"Into The Nothing"

_Into the nothing,  
__Faded and weary,  
__I won't leave you and let you fall behind.  
__Live for the dying,  
__Heaven hear me,  
__I know we can make it out alive._

* * *

**McKinley Halls  
****4:42 PM**

They marched in a single-file line except for Sam and Kurt. Due to the three severe blows to the head, Kurt was nearly dragged forward. He tried and failed desperately to keep his eyes open, but the pain within his skull was so powerful and all-consuming that it became a great struggle to remain conscious. One of his arms was positioned around Sam's neck; the other gripped his shirt tightly. Sam held the arm around his neck securely and wrapped his other arm around Kurt's torso, keeping him upright. He ignored the blood that had transferred from Rory's wound, to Kurt's hands, to Sam's blue tee shirt.

The line started with Santana, then the boy with the glasses, Quinn, and finally Kurt and Sam. Ron walked next to the line with his gun in his right hand. He didn't even have to raise it to make them follow his orders.

"Turn here," he spoke to Santana and she made a right. Quinn followed the boy with glasses as they turned and was crying harder than ever. Her entire body was shook uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Santana began shaking her head.

"No," she whispered.

"Keep it moving," Ron warned.

Santana felt like she was going to be sick.

"Stop here," Ron ordered and she let out a sob.

They were standing in front of the choir room.

Suddenly, there was movement behind her and she whipped around.

Ron had shoved Kurt aside and wrapped an arm around Sam's neck; his other hand pressed his gun against Sam's temple. The cold metal pressed hard against Sam's skin and he winced, his eyes wide with sudden fright.

"What are you—?" he whimpered in a very un-Sam-like way.

"Leave," Ron spoke and rapt his knuckles on the choir room door. Santana, Quinn, the boy with glasses, and Kurt, who had fallen to the floor, regarded him, thoroughly confused and petrified.

Ron raised his eyebrows at them. He waved them off with his gun.

"Off you go," he spoke as if shooing away a dog as the door opened.

Ron turned and shoved Sam through the doorway. They could hear Sam grunt as he was pushed again once he had made it inside.

"Take a seat with the others," came a nasty snarl from inside the classroom and then suddenly Ray's face appeared. "Man, am I glad to see you."

Ron offered a brief smile and stepped into the room. The door clicked behind them.

There was a moment of trepidation. Santana, Quinn, the unnamed boy, and Kurt all felt as if they were suspended in time. Was this a trick?

"Let's go," Quinn suddenly spoke, her voice shaking. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

Santana and the boy couldn't have agreed more. Kurt was attempting to get on his feet alone, but they gripped either side of his arms and lifted him to his feet. He grunted.

"Let's go, Kurt," Santana whispered. "We're leaving."

He grunted again and she nodded.

"I know you're in pain, but it's almost over," she spoke soothingly and they began moving down the hallway.

"_No_," he finally spoke clearly and dug his heels into the tiled floor. Santana glanced at the boy helping her with Kurt.

"Kurt—?"

"We can't," he exhaled, sounding tortured by his pain. "We can't."

"Yes we can," she said, trying to move him forward, but he resisted.

"Kurt, _please_," Quinn cried desperately, yanking on his hand.

"Stop, Quinn!" Santana yelled, stumbling forward by her jerks on Kurt's arm. "You're not helping!"

"I can't leave him back there," Kurt said, lifting his head and looking at the boy who he did not know. The boy stared back at Kurt for a moment, looked up at Santana and nodded.

"He's right," he spoke for the first time and his voice was calm and surprisingly soothing.

"_No_," Quinn shrieked. "I want to get _out _of here!"

"Go," the boy said and then addressed Santana. "You take her."

"I…" Santana hesitated and moved her eyes from Kurt to Quinn. "Kurt?"

"Fine," he spoke and offered a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Go, take Quinn outside."

She wrestled with herself for a moment longer before she unwrapped Kurt's arm from around her neck and went to Quinn.

"Let's go," she spoke and Quinn broke out into a relieved smile. They took off down the hall and just before they turned the corner, Santana glanced back fleetingly and then disappeared from view.

* * *

**Outside McKinley High  
****4:50 PM**

The moment Santana and Quinn burst through the entrance of McKinley, they were surrounded. SWAT members wrapped their arms around the girls and hurried them across the lawn, towards the 'DO NOT CROSS' tape.

They were lead to the group of police officers where radioed voices and urgent orders filled the air.

"I need to talk to someone!" Santana yelled as they finally made it to the officers. "I know what's going on inside!"

"Bring her here," a man ordered and the SWAT member released her. A man with red hair and glasses and a tag that read Chief of Police Gregory Hutch approached her.

"They're all in one room now," Santana breathed, needing to get the information out as soon as possible. "Two boys who were with me are still in there, but they're coming out soon and—" she swallowed hard, "they're bringing out a body."

"Take a few breaths for me," the Chief of Police spoke calmly, but Santana ignored him.

"There's three gunmen," she spoke and Gregory's eyebrows furrowed. "They're all in our choir room."

* * *

**Choir Room  
****4:46 PM**

"Sam, are you okay, man?" Finn asked suddenly as Sam took a seat next to him. He was staring off into space.

"What's the plan?" Ron asked Ray and glanced around at Charlie who was glaring directly at Puck.

"I don't know," Ray spoke and for the first time Ron heard fear in his voice.

"Whose blood is that?" Finn asked urgently. Sam looked down at his shirt and looked almost surprised to find blood there.

"Well," he mumbled, "Kurt—"

"Shut up!" Ron shouted and everyone in the room jumped and fell silent.

Ray, who was now shaking, turned to Ron.

"What should we do?" he asked, and Ron wrinkled his eyebrows. Ray was _always _in control. He was never scared.

But he was now.

"We stick to the plan," Ron spoke sternly and Ray nodded jerkily. "For every hour we don't get what we want, we start shooting kids."

Ray continued nodding like a bobblehead.

"Okay, okay…"

Ron eyed him searchingly.

"Do you want me to call?"

"Yeah, yeah, you call," Ray mumbled, running a hand through his hair and Ron pulled out his cell phone.

"Sam," Finn spoke as Sam tried to wipe his hands off on his jeans furiously. "We heard two shots…"

Sam glanced up at Ron and then squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his hands rapidly on his jeans.

"Kurt tried to...but it was no use...God, the blood..." Sam mumbled under his breath, not making any sense.

"Sam, slow down—," Finn's voice shook with fear, but Sam was now shaking his head severely.

"No," Sam whispered and Finn wrinkled his eyebrows.

"Sam, please—"

"Shut up," he whimpered and Finn leaned away from him. Never had he seen Sam look so distraught.

Finn glanced around Sam and found Blaine. He was sitting, his face incredibly pale, and his eyes staring unblinkingly ahead.

"He'll be okay," Finn said adamantly to Blaine, though his voice shook violently. "They're not after him. They're after us. He's fine."

"Shut up," Ron directed to Finn and Sam suddenly grabbed Finn's leg tightly. In any other situation, Finn would've shoved him off and given him a disgusted look, but he turned to Sam and found him shaking his head and breathing shallowly.

"Please," he whispered and Finn fell silent. He took one last look at Blaine and then listened into Ron's phone call.

* * *

**Room 107  
****4:48 PM**

The room was exactly as they had left it. Blinds closed, door opened, blood on the floor, and an unmoving body slouched down in the front row.

Still staring blankly ahead.

"Stay here," the boy ordered gently and tried to lower him into a seat, but Kurt protested.

"I'll help," he insisted.

"Can you?" the boy wondered and Kurt resisted the urge to nod. His head throbbed like a heartbeat in his skull.

"Yes."

Kurt moved in front of Rory and stared down at him. Then, very slowly, he reached forward and closed Rory's eyes.

"Maybe we should leave him here," the boy murmured. "People can get him out later."

"No," Kurt decided resolutely. "He needs to get out of this room now."

He sighed.

"I'll get this side," the boy spoke, giving in. "You ready?"

Kurt nodded. They took Rory's arms, wrapped them around their necks, and gripped Rory under his thighs.

Together they lifted.

Rory's body was heavy. Kurt felt sick to his stomach thinking it, but it was true. He was very heavy and he had a hard enough time keeping his balance as it was. The added strain caused his head to feel as if someone had swung an axe deep into his brain and split it in two.

He broke out in a sweat as they exited Room 107, a number that was sure to give Kurt nightmares, and started their journey down the hallway.

"I think," the boy grunted and Kurt squeezed his eyes shut tightly before exhaling, "we're going to cause a scene outside when we bring the body—"

"Rory," Kurt corrected with a strained grunt.

"When we bring _Rory_ out," he agreed easily, "people are going to go nuts. I'll go out first and tell them what to expect so they can bring in a stretcher."

Kurt didn't respond.

Some people say the hardest part of the journey is taking the first step, but Kurt disagreed entirely. Every step was excruciating. There were times when he literally didn't think the pain could get any worse and then the pain would twist and flare up again. There was no greater relief than when the entrance to McKinley High appeared.

"Here," the boy spoke, lowering Rory to the ground and Kurt groaned in relief as he slid down as well. "You stay here, I'll bring help. You okay?"

Kurt closed his eyes, breathing heavily, and gave a very weak, "Yes."

Just as the boy put his hand on the door, Kurt's voice sounded again.

"What's your name?" he asked softly, in a whisper.

The boy turned and looked down at Kurt.

"Daniel," he said.

Kurt exhaled.

"Thank you, Daniel."

He gave a curt nod and then was gone.

Kurt turned to Rory, who was on his back, his mouth opened, and his eyes closed. He could have been sleeping.

"You didn't let me say goodbye," Kurt said and his voice sounded all too loud for the empty hallway. "We helped each other through this whole thing and you wouldn't even let me say goodbye."

He felt his heart ache along with head.

"I know what it's like to feel alone in a sea full of people," he spoke quietly. "I know how you felt, coming to America, knowing no one, missing normalcy and people you loved. You needed friends and family and people who loved you _here_. I…I hope you found that in Glee club. I hope you thought of us as your family.

There were approaching footsteps and Kurt gathered all his energy to lift himself to his feet.

"We all loved you," he finished quickly, but quietly still. "I hope you knew that."

The doors opened and four men with two stretchers came in. They took notice of Kurt and his attempt to stand.

"Hey, stay down kid," one man spoke gently, but Kurt refused his help.

"I want to go out with him," he spoke, as two of the men lifted Rory onto the stretcher. They began zipping him up in a long bag.

"Sir," another spoke and he put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "He's in good hands now."

"I want to walk out with him," Kurt spoke forcefully now on his feet, his head flaring in pain again. "It's what he would've wanted."

They stopped resisting him and allowed Kurt to walk next to the stretcher as it wheeled through the doors.

The sun was bright orange as it set in the distance. Kurt gasped out of the pain and squinted his eyes to block out the intense light.

"_Kurt!" _

Kurt glanced over to see his father, Mercedes, Tina, Will, Emma, Sue, and Beiste all standing with looks of intense relief. Kurt tried to smile, but the pain in his head began to engulf him. It was as if someone was compressing his brain and spearing it with white-hot spikes. Never before had he ever experienced this type of pain.

His vision went fuzzy and he glanced over as he heard pounding footsteps sprinting towards him.

He vaguely wondered why his father was racing to him just as the pain consumed him and his vision went black.

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **Thanks for reading! Once again (cough, cough.) my username is **aglassofgleebles **on Tumblr! :D

Please review!


	10. Chapter Nine: Run This Town

**gleebles A/N; **Well, here is the end! One extra long chapter for an extra long journey! :) Thanks you all so much for the support! You were amazing! Read the A/N at the end for more details, but for now, ENJOY CHAPTER NINE!

Chapter Nine  
"Run This Town"

_Victory's within the mile,  
__Almost there, don't give up now,  
__Only thing that's on my mind,  
__Is who's gonna run this town tonight?_

* * *

**Choir room  
****4:50 PM**

"Don't talk for the next minute," Ron ordered into the receiver. The room was deadly quiet. "These are the names of the students we have and if you don't listen to what we want, we'll start shooting one student every hour until we _do _get what we want."

Ron's shoes tapped and echoed across the tiled floor and he approached Artie first. He lowered the cell phone in front of his face.

"Name," Ron spoke evenly and held the gun against Artie's head.

"Artie Abrams," he said and Ron immediately moved on.

He approached Puck next and repeated the actions.

"Name," he ordered, pressing the gun to Puck's temple.

Puck, his arm still clamped around his injured shoulder, glared up at Ron.

"Puck."

Ron glared down at him and Puck rolled his eyes.

"Puckerman."

Ron pressed the gun harder against his head.

"_Noah _Puckerman," the Mohawked-man spat angrily. "_Damn_…"

Ron gave his head one last shove with his gun before he moved on.

"Name," he spoke, the phone in Finn's face.

"Finn Hudson."

Sam blanched away as Ron neared him and he swallowed dryly.

"Name."

"S-Sam Evans," he stuttered and exhaled as soon as Ron walked toward Blaine.

"Name."

There was no response.

"_Name."_

Finn had noticed a difference in Blaine, but now that he could study him, he recognized that something was terribly and significantly..._wrong_ with him. He hadn't been injured, physically at least, but his _eyes…_they stared unseeingly into the space in front of him. It was as if his soul had detached himself completely from his body, leaving behind a catatonic shell. He didn't even react as the gun touched his sideburn.

"_Name_," Ron spoke again, and forced the phone closer to Blaine's mouth.

"Blaine Anderson," Finn called from across the room and Ron turned his head toward him.

Then, he raised the phone to his own lips.

"Give us the football players in exchange for our hostages and they'll get off Scott-free. If not, you know the consequences. It's up to you."

Ron hung up.

* * *

**Outside McKinley High  
****4:55 PM**

The phone disconnected and Principal Figgins glanced up at Gregory Hutch.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his heart sick with worry and Gregory placed the phone back into his pocket and whistled his team forward.

"Not what they want," he spoke confidently. "We have a squad going in now to get the rest of the students out of the school and then we'll focus on the hostages."

"But the kids in the choir room…?" Figgins wondered and was met with Gregory's assured nod.

"We have a plan."

* * *

**Choir room  
****4:55 PM**

It was silent in the choir room as Ron hung up the phone, and he glanced at the clock.

"Who'd you kill by the way?"

Ron looked down at Charlie in surprise. He stared at him with his interested blue eyes and Ron noticed a sudden shift in his personality.

"Does it matter?" he asked, his eyes darkening.

Charlie gazed back at him hungrily with a dark malicious desire in his expression. The sight of him caused Ron's hairs to stand up on the back of his neck and he turned away from him.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered decidedly and folded his arms. He didn't want to give Charlie a sick sort of pleasure out of death. "He wasn't important to us anyway."

"You know, you're a real bastard," Finn hissed through clenched teeth. His hands were gripped together so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Talking about his _brother _like that after they _murdered _him…

Ron glanced over at him and Sam reached for Finn again, grabbing his arm.

"Don't. They're serious," he warned, sounding afraid.

"They're not serious. They're totally making this up as they go along," Finn retorted, throwing Sam's hold off.

"Where are you going with this, Finn?" Artie asked, turning in his chair.

"They're just going around without a plan!" he yelled. "Why don't you just do what you came here to do?!"

"What did you say?" Ray spoke up, regaining some of his anger. "Maybe our plan was to make you feel some remorse. Unlike what you felt toward Charlie!"

"Oh for the love of God!" Finn threw his hands in the air. "I didn't even _know _Charlie! I didn't even know he went to this freaking school!"

"Just because you didn't push him in a dumpster—" Ray began, but Finn began yelling over him.

"It's nobody's fault! That's just the way it is in high school!"

"It's nobody's _fault_?"

Everyone stared at Charlie. He slowly stood up and walked toward Finn.

"Yeah," Finn responded, although he looked a little uncertain. "I didn't do_ anything _to you."

"I know," Charlie's voice began to rise, stopping a mere foot away from Finn. "You did _do anything_! I _know _you saw me! And you just _watched _and then walked away! This is just as much as your fault as it is theirs!"

Finn's mouth opened to retort, but his comment died in his throat as Charlie continued.

"Do you know what it's like coming to school terrified?" he asked, his gun raising at him, and cocking his head to the side. "Hm? Afraid to turn a corner? Having to go home and explain to your parents why you have bruises on your arms? Stains on your clothes?"

"You think that you're the only one who goes through this?" Finn asked, his heart suddenly aching at the thought of Kurt.

"And that makes it _right_?" Charlie asked shrilly. Ron and Ray watched him from behind with wide eyes. "All you football players think that bullying is normal! That it's just a part of high school, but—"

"I never said it was right!" Finn yelled.

"I'm sorry."

Everyone turned to Puck who had murmured out the apology.

"What?!" Charlie yelled, walking toward him and stopping directly in front of him. "What did you just say?"

Puck looked at Charlie sincerely.

"I'm sorry."

The hand on Charlie's gun twitched.

"Sorry for _what_?" he asked bitterly, scowling at him.

Puck inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

"Sorry you got your ass kicked. Sorry that you were afraid to come to school."

"This is _bullshit_," Charlie snarled taking a step closer to Puck.

"What?" Puck asked, raising his voice as well. "This is what you wanted, right? An apology? Then from the bottom of my heart to the top of my Mohawk, I'm sorry. I feel terrible. I don't know what else you want from me."

Charlie stared at Puck for some time, analyzing. Calculating. Gauging.

Then, his watch beeped.

He glanced down at it.

**5:00 PM**

He turned around with a bright smile on his face.

"Who's first?" Charlie asked Ron and Ray and he joined them in the middle of the choir room. His glee at the prospect of murdering a teenager made Ron and Ray glance at each other.

"We should hold off on Puckerman," Ron decided and Ray shook his head altogether.

"No, we don't need to kill anyone right now," he spoke, his voice shaking.

"Yes we do!" Charlie snarled and Ray stared at him in shock. "We're not liars! _You _came up with this plan and we're following it through!"

"Listen!" Ray spoke, trying to regain his composure, although he was thoroughly shaken by the sudden switch in leadership. "If we start killing them off, we have less to trade for football players. They'll take the bluff; trust me."

Charlie glared at Ray, his finger itching on the trigger of his gun, and then glanced around the room. His eyes landed on Blaine who was still stuck in his comatose state.

"What about that one? He seems pretty useless."

"Trust me," Ray whispered confidently and earned back Charlie's attention. He turned to Ray with searching eyes.

"This is how we're going to get what we want?" he asked, seeking reassurance and Ray nodded once.

"Yes. In an hour, if we don't have anyone coming down that hallway in jerseys, we'll kill two for the one we're not killing now."

Charlie stared at Ray for a solid ten seconds and then huffed.

"Fine. I'll start with Puckerman. Then Hudson."

"_We need a plan_," Puck whispered to Finn as the three boys talked amongst themselves. "_I say if no one comes in the next ten minutes, we charge_."

Finn made sure they were all still distracted before whispering back to Puck.

"_Are you sure? That could hurt the others_."

"_Then we'll charge first_!" Puck spoke fiercely. "_Didn't you hear them? We're dead either way. Might as well go out saving some lives and kicking ass._"

Finn absorbed this plan and glanced around at his friends. He looked back at Puck, staring at him dead in the eye and then nodded. Puck gave him a half-smile and raised a closed fist.

Finn bumped his knuckles to Puck's and then turned to Sam.

"No way," Sam spoke quietly, but sounding absolutely resolute after hearing the plan.

"What are you talking about?" Finn asked back.

"Finn, you have no idea what he's capable of," Sam said and suddenly Finn thought of Kurt. The blood on Sam's shirt.

"Sam," Finn spoke softly. "We're _all _going to die in here if we don't do something. There's five of us and three of them."

"That doesn't matter," Sam mumbled, shaking his head.

"This isn't…" Finn started, but found tears burning in his eyes and he swallowed thickly. _God_, Burt was going to be _devastated_. "This isn't what…_he _would have wanted. He would have_ tried_. _He _would have _fought_."

Finn watched as Sam processed this and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He stared down at the blood on his shirt and sighed deeply.

He shook his head despairingly.

"I don't even know why they killed him instead of me…"

Finn's eyes suddenly felt hot and itchy.

"Focus, Sam," he ordered in a tight voice and Sam closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Are you with me?"

Sam inhaled deeply and then gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Good man," Finn whispered gently, squeezing his knee. "Tell Blaine."

Artie, who had overheard the interchange, just nodded when Finn touched his shoulder. When Finn straightened up, Sam gave him a look.

"I told him, but I don't know if any of it registered."

Finn glanced past Sam at Blaine, wondering what was going on in his head, but then he straightened up, inhaling and exhaling decidedly.

They had a plan.

"I don't know if we were prepared to do this," Ray whispered to Ron after Charlie had taken a seat at the piano. He glanced around at the classroom and at the gun in his hand. "We weren't prepared for this."

"No, no, come on, Ray," Ron spoke in a low voice. "We're fine."

"I'm not ready," Ray exhaled, shaking his head back and forth. "I mean, what if the police come charging in?"

"Then we go down shooting, Ray," Ron whispered strongly, gripping his forearm tightly. "Like we planned."

"I don't know…" Ray mumbled, averting his gaze.

"Whatever you're thinking," Ron interrupted his thoughts, "stop. We're in this together."

"I can't—"

"You _will."_

"But—"

"_Stop_," Ron said incontestably into Ray's face. Ron was shocked to find tears pooling in Ray's eyes.

"I can't believe we did this," Ray dropped his head. "I can't go down shooting…"

"_Yes _you can, Ray," Ron tried again. "Not the way you're thinking. We don't end things that way, okay?"

"We _killed _somebody…"

"Ray, _please_," Ron begged. "We did this for Charlie. They were going to kill _him_ if things continued the way they did. We found Charlie and decided to help him. You aren't a _bad guy_, Ray. You're a good friend."

"You're a good friend too," Ray whispered and looked up sadly into Ron's eyes. "Why did we _do_ this?"

Finn looked behind him and met Puck's eyes. Puck nodded subtly and Finn touched Artie's shoulder and he nodded again. Blaine and Sam met his eyes and gave the undisputable look.

It was time to take action.

"On my go," Finn spoke just loudly enough for all of them to hear. "Three…"

"I can't do this, Ron…"

"Yes you _can, _Ray!"

"Two…"

Charlie looked up at them instinctively.

"GO!"

Suddenly, Puck, Finn, Sam, Blaine, and Artie all charged forward. In the next instant, the door in the back of the classroom burst open and then the entire room exploded in thick, grey smoke.

Finn hesitated in his pursuit and blinked rapidly in the foggy room.

"_Puck_?" Finn coughed, the smoke entering his lungs and making his eyes water. He squinted and could make out Puck's face pressed against the tiled floor, black covered arms and hands holding him down.

"Puck!" Finn roared, making his way toward his best friend, but then he felt something hard and thin roll over his foot. He hissed in pain, knowing from experience that it had been Artie's wheelchair, and tripped forward.

He flipped over quickly and could just barely make out a black figure pushing a Mohawked-man toward the back of the classroom…but Puck wasn't struggling. Puck had the best survival instincts around, but he was willingly leaving the choir room.

"I'm sorry," came a sobbing voice suddenly out of nowhere

"_NO!_" came a shout and there was a gunshot. The next moment, a person fell bonelessly atop of Finn and a gun clattered away, bouncing against the wall.

Squeaking and panicking, Finn viciously pushed himself away and blinked wildly at the body.

It was Ray. With a bullet in the side of his head.

Finn, paralyzed with fear, remained still. Then, the sound of two body's brawling sounded to his left. If Finn wasn't too disoriented by now, those noises would've been from either Blaine or Charlie, or both.

"Blaine?" Finn cried, squinting through the smoke.

"_Get off me_!" Blaine screamed unseeingly and Finn heard the sound of knuckles against flesh.

Finn, his heart racing and confusion swimming, turned around and reached blindly for Ray's fallen gun.

Suddenly, two sets of arms wrapped themselves around his body, lifted him to his feet, and began shoving him to the back of the classroom.

"S-Stop!" Finn cried, terror seizing his heart. _It's Charlie and Ron, _he thought to himself in panic. _It's them._

Finn was heaved from the room, away from the smoke, and tried to wiggle out of the arms that encircled him.

"Let me go!" he choked, unable to stop coughing as they continued at a rapid pace down the hallway. His eyes were burning and watering so badly that he could not open his eyes and he tripped several times.

"Stop struggling," the man who embraced him from behind spoke and Finn craned his head back to see who held him.

Relief poured throughout his bloodstream and he let out a choked out, watery, half-sob half-laugh.

Everything had happened in a blur. One second he was facing Charlie dead on, prepared to die at any second and the next he was half-jogging half-yanked by SWAT men down the hallway that led outdoors.

They burst through the front doors and his world exploded into a bright orange, vivid sunset.

"Finn!" cried a voice that he knew _very _well. He glanced around the crowd desperately and caught sight of his mother. He tripped over his feet at his relief and began thrashing in the SWAT member's arms to get into his mother's.

As soon as they were across the lawn, he was finally released. He took off in a dead sprint, slammed into his mother's chest, and was immediately engulfed by her strong embrace.

"You're safe honey," she crooned and sobbed into his shoulder. He gripped back intensely, feeling tears spill unashamedly down his pale cheeks. "You're here with me. You're safe now."

Finn sobbed and shook for nearly five minutes before inhaling deeply and opening his eyes.

He caught sight of Blaine was also collected into the arms of, Finn could only assume, his mother and father. His eyes were closed, but Finn was sure if they were opened, they'd still be wide and staring, gazing emptily into space.

And there was Sam, whose mother and father were cupping his face and kissing his cheeks. Finn looked away as soon as Sam broke down into tears.

Artie was nowhere to be found, but Finn found Puck. He was shirtless, sitting at the back of the EMT. His shoulder was wiped of blood but now that Finn could see fully, the wound was deeper than he had expected, but Puck didn't look pained at all. In fact, he gave Finn a slight smile when he caught his eye. Then, he looked up at the entrance to the school and his gaze hardened.

Finn followed his gaze and immediately unleashed himself from his mother and stiffened.

He watched as Charlie walked across the lawn in handcuffs. He was surrounded by police officers, yet his expression remained extremely neutral.

He seemed to feel eyes on him because he suddenly looked up at Finn. The setting sun casted an orange glow on Charlie's face and affected his wide, blue eyes in an extreme, blinding contrast.

He stared Finn down and then suddenly the corners of his mouth began to curve. They continued to pull upward as if the mere sight of Finn caused him endless mirth and soon his face had enveloped in a full-blown smirk.

Police officers eventually ducked his head and situated him in a police car, but Finn could still see that smile.

He wondered if he could rid his memory of that smile, but knew that he wouldn't be able to.

He'd have to carry it around with him for the rest of his life.

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **YAY! We did it!

First off, there will be an epilogue which I will post on Thursday.

Two, there will be a sequel called **We're Only Human**. To stay updated, check out my Tumblr: aglassofgleeblesplease . tumblr . com I've been working on it and lemme tell you...if you like Blaine, you'll _love _this story. ;) If you don't, you'll probably still like it. Heehee!

And lastly, I'm starting another AU! Again, to stay updated, check out my Tumblr! :D

PLEASE REVIEW! :D


	11. Epilogue: Return to Innocence

**gleebles A/N; **IT'S 2013! Ahh, craziness!

Thanks so much for the support everyone! Special thank yous to:

**klaineisendgame11 **(Klaine is INDEED endgame!)

**XxXYoulovemeanywaysXxX **(Happy birthday, love!)

**leahk80 **(Thank you!)

and **Klainefan4eva **(Forevah, evah, evahhh!)

Thanks so much for your constant stream of reviews! They seriously make my day every time I read them! :) Also, **thank you to the 71 viewers who alerted this story! :) **Anywho, make sure to read the author's note at the end for some information regarding this story! :)

HERE'S THE END!

Epilogue  
"The Return to Innocence"

_The return to innocence,  
__If you want, then start to laugh,  
__If you must, then start to cry,  
__Be yourself don't hide,  
__Just believe in destiny._

_Don't care what people say,  
__Just follow your own way,  
__Don't give up and use the chance,  
__To return to innocence._

* * *

**Principal Figgins**

It was almost 6:30 PM when Principal Figgins entered the McKinley High. As he passed through the halls, he inspected the damage that had been inflicted to his school. It was still a mess. There were papers, binders, purses, book bags, books, jackets, and pencils scattered all across the floor. He closed his eyes, the moments of sheer panic and chaos now over, but still very fresh in his mind.

He eventually ventured into his office and took a seat at his desk. He inhaled and exhaled deeply before he slid the microphone toward him.

"Dear students of McKinley High. If you are still in the school, it's safe to come out now. It's over."

He blinked, processing everything.

"We'll carry this with us for the rest of our lives…but we'll get through this together."

* * *

**Will Schuester**

Emma crossed the living room and took a seat next to her fiancé. He didn't have to say anything for her to understand that he was upset. By the way he pressed his closed fist to his mouth, she knew he was near tears.

"I just," he choked and then rubbed his forehead. "I wish I had been there with them."

"No," Emma crooned softly, rubbing her hand up and down his back. "You can't think like that. It's over now and they'll be okay."

"They must've been so scared," Will exhaled shakily and tears slid down his cheeks. Emma reached up and wiped them away. Will looked up at her with a devastatingly broken expression.

"Now they're safe," she reassured softly. "Eventually, they'll be okay."

Will squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward into Emma's awaiting arms.

* * *

**Finn Hudson**

If anyone had asked him days before the school shooting, Finn would've agreed; crying on your mother at age 18 was ridiculous and pathetic. However, in the moment he had seen his mother outside, open, warm, and awaiting, away from the hurt and terror, he had burst into tears and allowed himself to fall in her arms.

And then once they went home and Finn found out that it was not Kurt that had died, but Rory, he cried more. Then he felt himself feel happy that Rory died instead of Kurt and that made him cry harder. He thought about how awful that day had been and how safe his mother felt and cried even_ harder_.

He didn't even think about being ashamed of himself. He didn't even think about being 18 years old, 6'3" tall, and three times the size of his mother. His mom was there and beautiful and accepting and comforting and non-judgmental and very much _safe_.

So he didn't think. He just cried.

* * *

**Mercedes Jones**

The church was quiet and empty. There were only three stain-glassed windows in which pale morning light shined weakly through.

Mercedes sat in the middle of the church, holding hands with her mother.

It was five in the morning, the day after the shooting, when Mercedes entered her mother's room.

"_Mom?" she spoke softly and her mother stirred._

"_What's the matter baby?" Desireé sat up, blinking at her daughter. "Why are you in a dress?"_

_Mercedes shifted her weight between feet._

"_I just…I need to go to church."_

"_Now?" her mother asked, getting out of bed._

"_Yes. Mama, get back in bed, I'll be back in an hour or so."_

_Her mother pulled on a pair of brown slacks and chose a maroon sweater out of her chestnut dresser._

"_Don't be silly. I'll come with you."_

Desireé squeezed her daughter's hand and Mercedes bowed her head.

'_Please Lord,' _she prayed, _'help Rory's family through this difficult time. Help all of my classmates, especially Kurt, Sam, Finn, and Mike. I'm praying for Charlie and Ron too. Help them realize the impact their mistakes have caused and help them to feel remorse. And please keep me in Your prayers. I…I want to forgive them, but I'm having trouble. I _want_ to forgive them. All of these things I pray in Your name, Jesus. Amen.'_

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Rachel quickly parked her car and rushed into the hospital. The whole school shooting had occurred the previous day and she had not been able to see or contact Finn the entire day or night. Finally, this morning at 6:30, he had messaged her, explaining that he was at the hospital with Kurt. She quickly texted him back, telling him that she'd be there in ten minutes.

She asked for her best friend at the front desk and, after she was directed, hurried to the elevator. Once she arrived on the third floor, she immediately spotted Burt with a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand, about to enter a patient room.

"Mr. Hummel!" Rachel cried and sped toward him.

"Rachel," Burt greeted shortly, backed away from the door, and opened his arms. Rachel gave him a brief hug and then looked up at him.

"How's he doing?" she asked, gesturing toward the room she had seen Burt entering, and he rubbed his face roughly.

"It's been a rough morning," he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "You know concussions. He's experiencing some slight memory loss, and his migraines are something awful."

Rachel listened and nodded slowly.

Burt glanced down at her.

"You haven't seen Finn yet, have you?" he asked and Rachel immediately shook her head.

"No, is he in there?" she asked and was relieved to see him nod.

"Can I—?"

"Let me bring him out here," he spoke gruffly and twisted the handle. He pressed a finger to his lips and opened the door. Rachel peeked into the room and found it engulfed in darkness.

Burt disappeared, but then Finn appeared seconds later. He looked down at Rachel and gave a weak smile.

Rachel launched herself at him and began to cry.

"I was so worried," she sobbed and clung to him tighter.

"I'm okay," he spoke thickly and Rachel froze, realizing that he too was in tears.

"Finn?" she asked, trying to peer up at his face, but he held onto her closer.

"_I love you_," he exhaled shakily and began to shake with silent sobs. Rachel wasn't in this position often, it was usually the other way around, and she still didn't know how to really comfort him. She didn't know what to say. Thoroughly unsure of what to do, she just held him and let him cry.

* * *

**Blaine Anderson**

Blaine sat in his dark bedroom and stared at nothing in particular. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting at the edge of his bed; he had lain down to get some rest hours ago, but thoughts swirled in his mind restlessly and refused him sleep.

So he sat there and stared.

"Blaine_, hellooo_?"

Blaine's eyes flicked upward and noticed his mother standing at the doorway.

"Yes?" he asked and she gave him a funny expression.

"I asked if you were having trouble sleeping."

Blaine shrugged one shoulder.

Margaret shifted her weight between feet before entering her son's room and taking a seat next to him. She kissed his temple and hugged him gently.

"Honey, do you want to talk about it?"

Blaine shook his head.

"No."

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"Just…hold your breath for a second," Brittney murmured, stroking Santana's arm up and down. They were in Santana' bedroom, lying on their sides. Santana had been crying for the past five minutes.

"I've-" she hiccupped and wiped at her eyes. "I have _never _been so scared in my life."

Brittney's hand paused and Santana burst into tears again. She thought for a moment before starting up again.

"I'm here," she reminded and pressed a kiss against Santana's cheek.

* * *

**Artie Abrams**

Artie could remember walking. He remembered what it felt like to stand and play soccer and tumble in the backyard. He also remembered the car accident and then…feeling nothing.

He had felt so incredibly powerless and vulnerable then. But it was nothing compared to the school shooting.

The second he saw the gun, he felt..._exposed. _There was _nothing _separating him and death, but then suddenly, there was Mike.

_Never _had he felt so helpless.

* * *

**Tina Cohen-Chang**

Sitting by Mike's side in the hospital, staring at his sleeping figure, Tina felt hatred. She was such a calm, peaceful individual, and yet she vibrated with a palpable rage. Mike, who wanted nothing in life other than dance, lay with a bullet hole through his upper thigh.

His entire world had shifted with that one bullet and Tina didn't know what would become of Mike.

And she was furious.

* * *

**Mike Chang**

On his desk lay multiple college applications for medical school. Applications for dance schools now lay in the garbage.

* * *

**Kurt Hummel**

Kurt felt his head give another painful throb and he exhaled. He squeezed the hand in his own and was displeased when he didn't feel it return.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked aloud in the dark room, but didn't receive a reply. He squeezed his hand again, "Blaine."

"Yes?" Blaine asked and Kurt tugged him forward.

"C-Come lay down with me," he mumbled, his head flaring in pain.

He had received a concussion from Ron's gun. After two days in the hospital, Kurt was sent home and was finally able to see Blaine. It had been five days since he was released from the hospital and every day it was the same routine: Blaine came over, sat next to Kurt in the dark basement, away from noise and light which both caused Kurt's head to flare in pain, and they held hands. Though Kurt persisted, Blaine refused to lie down with Kurt or cuddle with him at all. Normally, Blaine was uptight and formal around others, but in front of Kurt he could relax and be himself. However, uptight and formal was the only Blaine Kurt ever saw since the shooting.

"Just get some rest, Kurt," Blaine replied smoothly and finally squeezed Kurt's hand back.

"I will if y-you c-come lie with m-me," he reasoned. Kurt noticed in the hospital that he was having trouble speaking, but the doctor said that stammering after a concussion was not unheard of and to not be alarmed. It would go away with time.

"Do you need more medication?" Blaine diverted his wish.

"No," Kurt sighed and closed his eyes.

They sat for a moment in silence.

"I wish you would t-talk to me," Kurt whispered.

Kurt wasn't sure if Blaine simply hadn't heard him or if he didn't have an answer for him, but either way he didn't respond.

Kurt sighed, releasing Blaine's hand, and flipped to his other side, facing the wall.

* * *

**Burt Hummel**

"Burt?"

Mr. Hummel looked away from the computer screen and up at his wife. Carole stared down at him in concern.

"Come to bed, sweetheart," she murmured and touched his face gently. He closed his eyes as she kissed the top of his bald head.

"In a minute," he smiled and she patted his shoulder twice before returning to their bedroom. She peeked back at him for a moment, smiled, and shut the door behind her.

Burt hesitated before glancing at the clock. It was nearing midnight and Carole worked at five in the morning. He knew it was important for her to spend quality time together, cuddling and whatnot, before getting ready for the day.

He pulled the previous page back up on his monitor and decided to finish the article and then he would join his wife in bed.

According to the article, the psychological affects after a school shooting were extremely complex. There were different reactions, emotions, stages of grief, etc. He tried to pinpoint where his boys fit into the emotional process. Finn was, Burt scanned the page again, most likely depressed. He hung around the house, hardly ate, didn't play videogames, but he didn't mind talking about the shooting. He was open and he cried and he hurt. In Burt's opinion, he was healing.

Kurt was also healing, but slowly. He spent his afternoons in the dark basement and listened to music on low. His migraines were becoming fewer and further apart, but he was still hurting. Burt wondered if he was even dealing with the emotional aspects of the event at all.

He reached the bottom of the page when a link for parents caught his interest.

_Tips for Parents – How To Help Your Child Heal_

Burt hesitated, thinking of Carole, then clicked on the link.

* * *

**Sam Evans**

"Sammy!" Stacey called and tucked at his jacket. "Can we play Go-Fish?"

Sam shrugged off his sister's grasp and gave her a tight smile.

"Not right now, Stace."

His brother then strode up to him and placed his chin on Sam's knee.

"Can't we go outside?" Stevie wondered, but Sam stood up suddenly and ran a hand through his hair.

"Mom," he spoke quietly and waved his hand sporadically toward his siblings. "Dad, please."

Dwight and Mary Evans both looked up from their place on the couch and his mother stood.

"Come on kids," she smiled, beckoning them closer. She tucked a blonde strand of hair behind her ear and then picked up Stacey. "Let's go play in your room."

"Is Sammy sad again?" Stevie wondered, following his mother.

"Let's just give your brother some space," she advised and disappeared around the corner.

Sam watched them go and then turned to the door.

"Sam," his father called. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he spoke aloud. "Just getting some air."

Sam sealed the door behind him and inhaled deeply. It was mid-February and the chilled wind was biting at his nose and cheeks.

_"Sam, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to be my Valentine's Day sponsor as well? I mean, you did such a good job being a Christmas sponsor, I figure you'd have no problem helping me nab a snog or two by February..."_

Sam closed his eyes and exhaled shakily.

_Rory's murderer was still out there._

Ron's trial date was nearing and there was a chance that he'd be set free. If that were to happen—

"Sam, come inside," his father called through the screen door. "It's freezing out there. You'll catch a cold."

Sam looked down at his clenched hands and stepped backwards toward the front door.

Anger rippled through him and he decided not to entertain the possibility of Ron's charges dropping. There was only one solution if that were to happen, but Sam couldn't think the words in his head.

He wasn't a murderer.

* * *

**Noah Puckerman**

"Noah!"

Puck rolled his eyes but continued with his exercise. "What?"

"I told you one rep with 50 pounds! What do you think you're doing?"

"I figured if I do 3 reps with 100 pounds that'd cover two weeks in one trip. I've got baseball season to worry about."

His physical therapist did not seem very pleased with his remark.

"You're going to end up hurting yourself even more if you don't follow my directions, Noah."

"If I follow your directions, I'll be here until graduation."

Like he cared if he got hurt more. He might spend his spring season benched, but at least he'd have a kickass scar to make up for it.**  
**

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Sam answered his phone, but refused to talk to her about the shooting. Quinn debated calling Kurt, but decided against it, knowing he was hurt. She didn't even know the name of the boy with glasses, let alone have his phone number. Santana answered the first time, but, like Sam, didn't want to talk about it and had ignored her calls ever since.

She just needed to talk to someone.

* * *

**Emma Pillsberry  
****August 2011**

Emma loved her job. Becoming a guidance counselor, talking to kids, and helping them with their problems was the most important and rewarding decision she had ever made.

She smiled, humming to herself, and realigning the pamphlets neatly when a soft knock sounded at her door.

She turned, expecting Will, but instead found a small boy with brown hair standing uneasily at the threshold.

"Hello," she greeted, sounding surprised. "Can I help you?"

He shifted apprehensively and rubbed his forearm. Emma noticed cuts on his face and light green spotting under his eye from what looked like a week-old black eye.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked with a terribly weak sounding voice.

"Absolutely, come in," Emma spoke, approaching him. "Why don't you take a seat?"

The boy tentatively stepped into the room and Emma closed the door behind him.

"Alrighty," she smiled and moved behind her desk. She took a seat and smiled as the boy mirrored her actions. "My name is Miss Pillsberry."

The boy glanced up at her with incredibly bright blue eyes.

"Charlie."

* * *

**gleebles A/N; **Sequel to this story is currently in progress! It will be called **We're Only Human**, inspired by the song _Human _by Jon McLaughlin. It's a great song; give it a listen!

If you want to stay updated with _We're Only Human_ and another AU I'm starting, follow me on:_  
_

aglassofgleeblesplease . tumblr . com

Hope you all had a happy New Year and THANKS FOR READING! :D

- gleebles


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